The Highway of Everyday...

Coming back from the Publix market to the car,
some inconsiderate shopper left their shopping
cart smack against the driver side door.
There oughta be a law…

You have to be sixteen to drive, and I think
operators of shopping carts should be forty--
but wait, it was probably a forty-something
that so kindly dumped the cart by the side door.

Parking lots are dangerous.
They’re a veritable battle ground of squeeze-bys,
zippers and slow pokers.

The squeeze-bys see that I’m already 80% pulled
out from my space. Then some SUV behemoth
or a looming, jacked up truck, just barely clears
the back end of my car. Maybe the toadstool car,
the Smart Car, can get away with doing that…

Then you have the zippers: Cars that fly around
the corners of the lot aisles like locusts, just as
I’m pulling out--and the driver swarms around me,
honking! I feel like shoving a banana up their tailpipe…

The slow pokers are those who think they’re driving
in a 1-mile-an-hour zone, or on some desolate
road in the middle of nowhere. Some of these drivers
are yakking on cell phones, while others just plod along …

I’ve seen gopher tortoises crossing the street faster
than these drivers drive! Understandable if the lot is
crowded, but once these drivers leave the lot for
the streets, their car barely hiccups along at 20 mph,
which can be a dangerous thing.

I know what you’re thinking--when I’m 80, I’ll
be one“them”, scooting along the Geriatric Highway.
I’ll wear my little pink hat, have rosy cheeks, and be
taking Mahjong lessons...you're right!
Bam me…

By the time I drive the 2 miles back home, I’m ready
for a cup of tea. ..and maybe, a Twilight Zone episode...