Today at the Hannaford Supermarket you pulled up to my husband’s car in your pickup truck. You sat there on your fat ass with your smelly, slobbering dog by your side, watching as my husband placed his grocery bags into the car. Then you had the audacity to roll down your window and blurt out:
“Can you hurry it up? I want your parking spot”.
As if the parking spot my husband was occupying was the only spot in the entire parking lot. Which it wasn’t. It was just closer to the store than most. And you were too lazy to find a spot further away from the store.
My husband was just lucky enough to get that spot when he arrived at the store an hour before. He could’ve parked in a handicapped parking spot and he probably would’ve been even closer to the store. He does have a handicap placard and he could’ve used it. Because he has multiple sclerosis. But if he’s doing well and is not having a flare-up, he refuses to park in those spaces. He saves them for people who need them more than he does.
My husband may not be the fastest at loading the groceries in the car. He had just waited 30 minutes in a line three deep just to check out. More than likely he was tired. He wasn’t being slow because you were sitting there being inpatient and ignorant. But you must be a miserable person to think you can just shout rude comments to another human being simply because you’re too lazy to find another parking spot. It’s too bad your dog has to live with you. They’re probably miserable also.