I Stopped Traffic

It was the annual Pro Bass Fishing Tournament in the Shoals. WalMart, the local sponsor, was so packed that cars were waiting to pull into the furthermost parking places in the lot. Normally, my husband and I would have come back at some later time, but caught up in the excitement, we parked in an obscure place and went in to fight the crowd. After loading the car with our newest wares from our WalMart adventure, I proceeded take the shopping cart back to the corral. (I hate carts all over the parking lot). The problem this day was that the corral was a few rows away because of our so-far-away parking space. Ole Boy must have gotten impatient because before I could get back, he was backing out of the space....in MY car... so I truck on over to the car to get in. By the time I get there, he's at the end of the row, ready to enter exiting traffic.



But...as I begin to get in...HE TAKES OFF!!! And I'm only half in! Now you have to picture this, I've got one foot in, one foot out, one cheek in, one cheek out. My head is sticking out above the hood of the car, and the door frame catches me on the "one cheek in, one cheek out" area and propels me, hopping on that "one foot out" alongside the car. Now, I am not a small girl, and I assure you, this was no pretty sight! As you can imagine, I am completed outraged at his lack of consideration for me, not letting me get completely into MY car before he takes off. I'm shouting such things as "Whoa!" and "STOP!! What are you doing??" and he stops....right in the middle of two lanes of traffic going in opposite directions. That's right, folks....I stopped traffic, but not in the way I had pictured in my mind that someday I would... Remember, the parking lot is completely full, and by now, many people are watching the spectacle that I am. I get in the car, and everyone in the parking lot can hear my heated displeasure. I did yell. Uh-lot.


When I finally calmed down, Ole Boy tried to explain. It seems that there was a break in traffic, and someone had motioned for him to come out. So he did! That wasn't a very good explanation in my opinion, so I yelled again. He then said, "I don't see what the big deal is, when I took off, I would just leave you standing there!" I then begin to explain to him just what happened, and how I was hopping along side of the car, half in, half out, etc. etc. etc., and he apparently got a sudden mental image of his not-so-small wife being propelled across the WalMart parking lot on one of the busiest days of the year, and he laughed. And laughed. And pulled over to laugh some more. I resolved in my heart that I would never speak to him again.


As he pulled into our drive way, I calmly got out, got into the driver's side, waited for him to unload the car by himself, and I went to see my Mom for some proper sympathy. I went in and told her my story....and she laughed. She tried not to when she saw that I was not laughing, but that made it even worse for her. I was finding nothing funny about this, mind you. Then my sister walked in, and I began to tell her of my misfortune of the abusive husband and the uncaring mother...and she laughed, and Mom got tickled again. Later, Ole Boy brought me chocolate. Yeah, I forgave him.