Bill Roper (billroper) wrote,
Bill Roper

Dangerous Signs of Insanity

I decided to go to lunch at the food court at the nearby mall. On December 22nd. This is probably not a good sign.

You see, I used to go to my favorite hot dog stand which is in exactly the opposite direction, but he lost his lease because the owner of the space wants to sell it to Walgreen's so we can have yet another drugstore. He's been closed since summer and was supposed to reopen somewhere else, but I haven't heard a word yet.

What I should be doing is eating a Frozen Brick Of Food (TM) at my desk and trying to lose some weight. But because things have been a bit crazy at work, I've been eating out at the food court.

Things are particularly insane today because we just started the beta testing of our product release. Of course, the Product Manager, the Project Manager, and the Programming Department Manager are all on vacation starting today. Which leaves me picking up various pieces of debris.

Going out to lunch was a good idea. It's relatively peaceful in a mall full of crazed holiday shoppers.

I knew that it was going to be crowded, so I didn't even bother to look for a close space. I just piloted the car out to the south forty and figured I'd walk in. Hey, it's a nice day for December.

As I'm walking up the long aisle toward the mall, I am passed by and then pass an older woman driving a midsize white car. She's obviously cruising for a parking space -- equally obviously, I'm going to be of no help since I'm walking toward the mall.

As we arrive at the handicapped spaces at the front of the aisle, there is a minivan that has its backup lights on, preparing to pull out. The woman pulls her car up behind his in such a way that he can't back out without hitting her. I decide to stop and watch, because I figure the guy in the van may need a witness to this level of stupidity. I'm standing about 20 feet away now and the woman rolls down her window and waves to me.

About now, I notice that her hair is a shade of orange that does not exist in nature, certainly not in someone of that age. "Excuse me," she asks. "Can I park there?"

"That's a handicapped space," I shout back.

"Can I park there?"

I don't know. Do I look like mall security or something? "It's a handicapped space. You can't park there unless you've got a handicapped placard. And you've blocked in the car that's trying to get out."

By this time, the poor victim in the van is starting to get out to find out exactly what he's done to deserve this. However, the woman now seems to have gotten the clue and drives off in search of another parking space. He got back in his van and left. I went on into the mall and got lunch.

I dunno...
Tags: musings

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