On a lovely, winter afternoon on our way to get gas, we had a bit of an adventure. My husband and I prefer to get gas a little bit further down the road from our house, as it is cheaper. These our tough times! Apparently more so than we thought... With my husband behind the wheel, off we went!
Now I know that some people forget rules when they have been driving for a long time. You forget to put on a blinker every now and then, you forget that you shouldn't pass on the right... little things. However, when you are at a 4-way intersection with stoplights and you are turning left (without an arrow mind you), you should probably remember that you do not have the right of way - especially when there is a car opposite you going straight or taking a right. We, of course, happened to be the latter in this situation.
My husband (with his blinker on) went to turn right, though we noticed a large, broken down, red van turning left as we were doing so. Now, we very well could have overseen this traffic violation and simply waited for them to complete their turn. No, no. It was pertinent that they were made aware of their driving faux pas.
We continued into the turn, as if they were not there (slowing down of course - we did not want to actually cause an accident, just show them that they were in the wrong). The frantic woman in the passenger seat of the van began making us aware of her discontent with our actions with her hands. Perhaps she was Italian.
As luck and fate would have it, our new friends happened to be going to the same gas station we were! My anxiety begins to kick in. I know my husband very well and I know that if a single thing is said, things will not be good. I got out of the car with him as he went to pump gas
just in case one of these upstanding citizens wanted to do, or say something foolish. Such a situation arose.
It was fine at first, but Barbara-Sue (example picture in this post) decided she needed something from the store inside (perhaps Skoal). She not-so-gently told us that we needed to stop speeding. Speaking was her first mistake. Speaking loudly to us was her second. Hubby informed Barbara that she needs to learn how to drive. She informed us that she did, in fact, have her license, though hubby let her know that it should be taken away and questioned her on whether or not she has heard of the term "right of way".
She apparently had, though had a skewed understanding as to what it meant, because she told us that she had the right of way. I, at this point, felt the need to step in and educate her, letting her know that you do not have the right of way when turning left while someone else is trying to go right or straight. After further insisting that we were speeding, husband-of-mine asked her to produce the radar gun that she had apparently been clocking us with, though she could not do so. Barbara-Sue continued to bicker with hubby, though was losing steam and running out of fake facts to throw at us. She ended with her strongest and most adult-like retort that she could think of ("Whatever") and walked into the store.
Meanwhile, the absent husband of the illustrious beauty we had just finished conversing with decided it was time to make an appearance. From behind, I saw a tall, slender man, who looked like he could be a middle-aged gentleman containing the intelligence and tact his blushing bride lacked. However, he turned around revealing a weathered face and long gray beard that any Renaissance Fair wizard would be envious of. The Backwoods Wizard again, began to lecture us on our speed, as we
again, requested that he learn how to drive.
Growing weary of our verbal battle, my husband, whom at this point I was
pretty sure was not a white male, but in fact a black woman reincarnated (I had my suspicions before, though this situation confirmed in), told Backwoods Wizard to "kick rocks" (get moving). The wizard went behind his abnormally long van and uttered that magical word; the word that let's the recipients of said word know that the person has nothing left to say and is defeated... "faggots".
For some reason, I was surprised. After being comfortable for so long, you forget that stupid people exist (well, you never forget
that, but this is a special kind of stupid). Hubby and I laughed a little, but were none too pleased. The wizard was informed that he should keep moving and that "50 cents will do" (which I later learned was a phrase that meant it would only take 50 cents of gas to burn the man). I did not ask my husband any questions, but got in the car and stored the threat in my head to ask about later.
The man said nothing else and his elegant wife remained in the store. We drove off and recounted the situation. We continued on our merry way (to Walmart, where we saw several more Backwoods Wizard-type folk) and then to GameStop (where my husband impressed me thoroughly by purchasing a video game for himself).
All in all, it was a lovely Sunday. The lesson we must learn from this delightful situation is that ignorance is not yet dead - rather somewhat dormant, lying within the brilliant, modern, light-hearted residence of the Valley.
