Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Black and white and red all over

I skip through the supermarket in my thinnest cotton skirt with goosebumps on my arms. 101 outside, frosty inside. The joy of air conditioning. A few minutes of freedom to buy a few little essentials. So much easier on my own, it's like a day at the spa but much cheaper. I hurl in a sack of giant pull-ups but can't help perseverate over a few percolating phrases from Nonna:- "why are you always so cheerful?" Cheerful is not a description that I have ever considered applicable and doesn't jive well with my grumpy existence. I chuck in a bag of ice as the freezer is on the blink again. A checker says hi and "nice colour!" which strikes me as odd for a black skirt, but none the less welcome for that.

The Parmesan is expensive but will make the difference between 'good enough' and 'superb' when it comes to dinner time. It's so hard to think of things to eat that don't require cooking in the heat. Some day soon we shall learn the art of the 'barbeque' rather than the sacrificial cremation. Nonna's voice reverberates around my brain, "ooo you look like a gypsy in that!" Was it a compliment? I think it was a compliment. I think of the programme I watched on the telly which explained that people see patterns where there aren't any as the human brain shuns the notion of random. I lean over the freezer counter as I hear a male voice say "nice black man." I flip around as he disappears around the corner. I remember that I am in America where the terminology differs as does the emphasis and timing. I'm so glad I'm wearing a skirt otherwise I might have something else to worry about in my tiny mind.

I dither over ketchup as there is far too much choice. I'd choose to avoid it completely but if I want him to eat broad bean and salami salad, then at least a cupful of the red stuff will be required.

I nip out to the teeny weeny car with one canvas bag of groceries as a woman struggles with her children in the next parking space, "get in the f**king car!" I glance across at small and stumbly people. "Whatcha lookin at!" It's more of an accusation than a question. I unlock the door and avert my gaze. I already know that I'm feeble at confrontation. "You single career women make me sick!" she yells as she slams her door. She's right! I am a woman. We both look at my wedding ring that rests on the top of the little car, "childless then! Baron bitch! You know nothing." She reverses out at high speed and departs. I start to breathe. This is the second occasion where I have had a similar experience. I must have the wrong sort of face.

I suspect this is punishment for using the car on an unnecessary trip, increasing my carbon footprint on the planet. If I'd walked I'd have missed her.

Whiplash from Mother earth no doubt.

12 comments:

The Anti-Wife said...

I feel sorry for her children. Love the skirt.

Shellie said...

Too bad you couldn't have a nice spa experience without the kids in tow, I know I can almost enjoy shopping when I do it alone.

Robin said...

What a rude cow. Try to forget her horrible attitude and focus on the fact that you obvious looked fabulous and calm and very put-together or she never would have thought that :-)!

PS Love the skirt!

farmwifetwo said...

I actually had someone in line in the store something like that too me when she was having trouble with her kids and mine weren't there.

Unlike you, I'm rude back and said something along the lines of "you know nothing about me, mine are both in school and both have Autism"... very calmly and politely and turned my back to her. I don't suffer rude people gladly. Also, I have no idea how people can be super-Mom's and get everything done... was blog hopping www.thepioneerwoman.com and got depressed.... still love her blog.

Eldest found me. Sigh.... was hoping for 2min to myself. Love the skirt.

S - who's babbling :)

lime said...

what a horrid angry person that woman must be. i too feel sorry for her children. i also hope one of them threw up on the car ride home and that she got a flat tire right after the kid threw up. a little karmic justice can't hurt.

Linda said...

Well, I guess she was in a bit of a snit, wasn't she? Darn you career girl types without a worry in the world! She couldn't have been more wrong, could she?!?

Anonymous said...

I had a similar unpleasant experience in a parking lot recently. All I could manage to say to the rude woman. who verbally attached me. was, "I don't think it was necessary to speak to me like that." Then I walked away, broke into tears and was depressed the rest of the day at the thought that one human would treat another with such disrespect. Of course, after the fact, I thought of a multitude of things I should have said to her in reply.

I'm really surprised anyone would speak out to a perfect stranger like that, not knowing if they were some wacko with an equally vile temper (or worse, someone who might be carrying a weapon)

Whitenoise said...

That's happened to me... I responded in a quiet voice with "Not very much, apparently." But I am a large man and have this talent for flashing a toothy, serial-killer smile that usually ends the conversation. ;-)

Hammer said...

I'm wondering if gypsy is a compliment..I guess it could be :)

As for the parking lot incident I've noticed that certain types of people have no class whatsoever.

If they are that bold in public imagine how they treat their children behind closed doors.

Deb said...

Wow. Makes me glad I live here. Even if it does snow:) And thanks for the phone sheep.

Anonymous said...

My word, what was WRONG with her? She must have realized she was being horrible to her kids, or she wouldn't have lashed out at innocent-bystander you.

Just tell me she wasn't wearing a T-shirt with "World's Best Mom" emblazoned across the front.

Seriously, I think I would've taken down her license number and called the police... "heading this direction, erratic driving" might be a good choice.

Karin said...

I was abused by a parent when I was small. Nobody ever spoke up for me, I suppose, because people did not want to get involved in what they considered a family matter.

Now, when I see such things in public, I speak up. As Hammer put it, if they treat their children this way in public, imagine what sort of fresh hell goes on in private.