. The Time I Almost Got Shanked .

A couple of days ago, I was loading my groceries into the back of my vehicle and minding my own business (as usual when things like this happen). I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a woman walking through the cars (head on a swivel, people - ain't nobody going to jack me from a parking lot). She had a giant cup from Subway, was wearing pajama pants and slippers, and was super duper pregnant. At first glance, however, I only noticed the pregnant thing. I smiled to myself. For absolutely no real reason. I swear. Maybe I was thinking of being pregnant with TT? Maybe I was thinking about the Oreos in my car? About my mom's visit this week? I have no idea. The fact here is that I smiled. Not even a full on smile - just a smirk, really.

Pregnant Pajama Girl went postal. She called me an f'ing b. Only she didn't abbreviate. She let it loose. I swung my head back around and stared for a second - she couldn't possibly be talking to me, right? There was another person around that had obviously offended her more than me - the girl putting groceries in her car, right? Turns out it was just me and her in this sort of weird parking lot stand off - me, completely bewildered and her, completely ready to smash my head into the germy, icky pavement. Color me surprised. It's at this moment that I got a clear look at her. Hello Kitty pj's, pink, dirty slippers, and a giant cup of what I can only guess was not caffeine free soda. 

I responded with the ever useful, "You're dumb," and moved on. I got in my car quickly (ain't nobody going to shank me in the parking lot, people) and drove myself home. 

Here's the thing: I wasn't offended by being called a bitch. Or even a f'ing bitch. You'd be surprised at how often I've heard it whispered under the breath of a student, or parent meaning to email someone else about me, or a coworker that didn't realize I was right behind him, or my entire four years in high school. The thing is that it was totally acceptable to her. She didn't feel like what she was doing in the middle of the day, in the middle of a parking lot was a big deal. She thought she was right. Girl even held her arms out like I was going to come at her or something - me, the girl that's terrified of bats, spiders, and Hot Topic.

After the Showdown at the Grocery Store, I drove home wondering where in the wide world of sports this world was headed. I was full of questions. What the heck is wrong with people? Where are their parents? Why don't people wear shoes anymore? It wasn't until I was home and carrying my Oreos in that I realized I reacted all kinds of wrong. Instead of the ever useful (for second grade), "You're dumb," I probably should've been slow to anger, slow to judge. Instead, I immediately grinded my teeth together and kind of thought about calling my dad to yell at her. [Is that still okay? I'm almost 31. Lemme know if it's not socially acceptable anymore.]

We're not perfect people, for sure. But God Bless America - can't we all just practice a little more kindness? I mean - we've got enough crappy rolling around this world as it is, amiright? Can we not just chill out for a second and realize that we're all in this big ol' world together and for just a hot minute, maybe like each other? 

And please, for the love of all that's holy, wear shoes. Hepatitis, people. Hepatitis! 

I love you more than I love garlic bread, 

B.