Blogmas: Zoomas

It’s December 3rd, and it’s 80 degrees here in Hell, I mean, Florida. But that’s actually kind of cool for the state average, if a bit warm for winter, so we went to the zoo today. It’s adorable there and while I didn’t get any good picture of the animals (I prefer to just enjoy them), I snapped some of the holiday decor for the blog because it’s goddamned blogmas!

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Google Assistant is great.

But I knew I’d find a way to rant during blogmas, and boy howdy, do I have some complaints for you.

They do bag checks and a metal wand detector sweep when you enter, which I’m all for, and it barely slows anything down. But the guy in front of me was not having it. It says very clearly before you even get to the entry line that certain things are not allowed inside, including weapons, but this mother fucker was carrying a fixed-blade hunting knife on his belt and said it was “crazy” he couldn’t bring it in. That is what this man thinks is crazy. That he’s not allowed to bring the knife he probably uses to slice open animals into a park filled with more animals. Also lots of people who expect to have a safe day at the zoo. Idiot.

Besides that guy, there seemed to be an inordinate amount of other crying babies at the zoo. When I say baby, I don’t mean toddler throwing a tantrum, I mean like, tiny thing that cannot communicate with you what is wrong with it and probably doesn’t have the shots it needs to be allowed around this many strangers. Now, I get it, babies gonna cry. It’s one of about three things they do, and that’s fine, but there was no where to go to escape it today. Especially when we got stuck on a tram with one.

Instead of hearing anything the driver said as he told ridiculously corny puns WHICH I LOVE, a way-too-little baby wet-throat-cried (admittedly better than high-pitched shrieking) for the full ten minutes of the ride while its grandma tried to distract it by pointing out the animals by incorrect name (none of them are deer, grandma, and you would know that if you could hear the goddamned driver!)

The tram ride also delivered unto us another hell: skinny person hell. The tram is made to fit four across which means Husband and I were to be sat with strangers–again, fine–but the zoo employee directed us to sit in a row with two women who really needed the whole row to themselves. Husband and I together ended up occupying a little less than a third of the seat, and to add insult to literal injury (being squished and sitting on something that isn’t made to be a seat is not fun) the woman, when realizing she needed to squash up a bit, looked at me, rolled her eyes, and grumbled about having to share “her” seat. Girl, you were in MY seat! I blame the zoo employee for not having the foresight to assign a parent and their small child to the row, but also American consumerism and a healthcare system that doesn’t recognize binge eating as the mental problem that it is (spoken from a recovery standpoint).

But you know what? All the annoying bits of the day just highlighted the positives going on in our lives: our family is exactly how we want it right now, we’re mentally and physically healthy, and there’s very little that can go so wrong in our lives that our day could really be spoiled. The day was actually great, it’s just that the awesome parts are boring for Dear Readers. I also had a super successful shopping trip to Target this morning to get the additional lights I needed, and I cooked our favorite veggie burgers for dinner, and our cats hardly fought at ALL today. Awesome, but boring!

Now, please enjoy the slightly-less-alternative, but always appropriate sounds of the dearly departed Tom Petty, a Floridian, and my imaginary dad (someday I’ll blog about that) who knew not to mention snow or the cold in his Christmas song:

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This Thing Keeps Happening

People keep inciting aggression against me when they’re the ones who have done something objectively wrong.

It’s probably a larger statement on humanity: people are entitled dickbags. They took my advice to stop giving a shit about one another long before I gave it, apparently. They really believe they’re infallible, and if you so much as pull a face they will COME AT YOU. People don’t even appear to think they’re not in the wrong, they’ll fully admit that shit, then double down. It’s clinical narcissism in action.

The most recent time this happened, I was walking in my neighborhood in the evening with Husband. We live near a river and there’s a sidewalk that runs between the water and the road. The opposing side of the street is lined with houses, there are two very small public parks, and the speed limit is 25 as is the norm in residential areas. The road is frequently used as a cut through to avoid a pretty long stoplight on a highway and therein lies the issue: People drive down this road like it’s also the highway.

Someone drove by us the other evening in a yellow sports car. It appeared to be going too fast. Frequently when people are going too fast, I wave my arms and shout at them because that’s the person I’ve become, but because this usually incites them to drive faster and on this particular day I’d already done a lot of working out, I simply made this face:

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That’s all I did. I made that face. As a car drove past me on a public road. And I didn’t even really look at it.

We glanced over our shoulders to watch it continue on, expecting it to turn up one of the other roads to avoid the light, but were very surprised when it, in fact, did not do this, but instead BACKS THE FUCK UP.

It was driving significantly slower this time, in reverse, so my husband stops, uncomfortable with the situation, but I continued on and ended up a couple yards ahead of him.

“Excuse me, ma’am!”

She had passed my husband and rolls up next to me, her passenger window down. I lean over to peer into her speedster to see a woman, maybe mid fifties, with that “I need to speak with a manager,” choppy-bleached haircut, and a serious case of stank face. She proceeds:

“I just want you to know I’ve lived in this neighborhood for 30 years, and I know the speed limit is 25.”

I just kind of stared at her, maybe squinted a little, thinking really hard. What did any of that mean? Her notation of the speed suggested that she knew I was annoyed with how fast she was going, so obviously it was too fast, but her words suggested she thought she wasn’t speeding and was in the right. Additionally, the amount of time she had lived in the neighborhood was ABSOLUTELY IRRELEVANT. But that’s a big part of people’s problems. They think they’re entitled to shit, especially if they’ve been around. So she’s lived on this block for as long as I’ve been alive. Shockingly there’s still local fauna left. She goes on:

“And I was just going 29.”

Ya know what? Maybe she was. I really don’t think that’s true, but let’s give her the benefit of the doubt. She was going 29 in a 25. So she just admitted she was going over the speed limit.

I’m looking at her like WTF and before she can go on, Husband steps up and says, “That doesn’t matter to the animals out here.” O shit, he done did it.

She briefly looks at him before setting her icy glare back on me and says, “Oh I know, I have three boxers.”

AGAIN THIS IS IRRELEVANT INFORMATION.

“So you know?” I say to her, emboldened by Husband, “You know people walk out here with their pets and there are wild animals running around, and so you know you should be driving more slowly, but you’re not?”

“I just want you to know,” she tells me in a way that bitchy cannot even begin to describe, “I was only going 29.”

I’m fucking flabbergasted, I don’t know what to say. Is she fucking with me? She doesn’t seem smart enough to fuck with me this way. This just seemed like insanity. You’re admitting to me you’re going over the speed limit, I didn’t even say anything to you, and you decided you had to drive back to me, ME SPECIFICALLY, and tell me off for MAKING A FACE THAT YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WAS TO YOU.

I was so thrown off I could barely spit out some swears at her as she careened away, tires squealing and all.

So what made her so bold as to do this? And why didn’t she just lie and say she was going the actual speed limit? How is it the state of things that this is the kind of conclusion people come to?

Yes I was being shitty but how dare you judge me.

This was not, of course, the first time this happened to me and Husband. Some brodude almost hit us when we were driving in a Publix parking lot a few years ago. He was cutting between the spaces, we were going down the aisle. The guy drove around and parked. Once we also parked and started toward the store, the driver emerged from a row of cars to verbally attack us for…almost getting hit, I guess? He literally yelled, “Why are you so mad? Did you die?” Like, I thought it was a joke, but this dude was for real. His friend was even put off by it, trying to calm him down. We said nothing since he was gigantic, and I thought at the time it was a possible Roid Rage moment, but since similar things keep happening, mostly to do with cars, and it’s just mind boggling. Perhaps being behind the wheel of what they could very easily turn into a weapon emboldens people.

Husband honked at someone who cut him off and the guy stopped, blocking Husband’s car, and ran up to Husband’s window. He drove away in a panic, thank god. Two hillbillies almost ran Husband and I over in a Home Depot parking lot. After jumping out of the way, we continued to our car, and a shirtless, three-toothed product of inbreeding followed after us calling me a fatass for getting in the way. A piece of shit 20-something cat called me from his truck and when I mumbled under my breath that he was disgusting as he drove off, he instead slammed on his breaks and drove at my walking pace for a good five minutes berating me while I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. Lovely tinges of misogyny sprinkled in there, but overall humans are just going bonkers.

I guess I could go out of my way to smile at these idiots, kill them with kindness as it were, but I wonder if it would even matter. People seem to just be, I don’t know, rotting from the inside. It’s like we can shine up their shells all we want, but their going bad from the core. Or they’re just broken.

I don’t really yell at speeders on my road anymore because I’m afraid the next person will have a gun, to be honest. So I guess the psychos win, in the end. But that’s par for the course in 2017, hu?

Or maybe the issue is really with me? I’ve probably come off super negative in these last few posts, but I do try to focus on the positive irl, I’m incredibly happy, have so many wonderful things in my life, and I know there’s a lot of good out there, but maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m calling it to me. If only it would stop manifesting like this and I could harness the dark energy.

But I’d probably just go find that lady and give her four flat tires.