By the time I grabbed my receipt I was at about a 9.2 on the “I’m gonna blow” richter scale. I pushed my cart towards the exit with the urgent determination I usually reserve for when I’m mowing the lawn and a black storm cloud is approaching. Half way to the door one of my wheels got hooked up on something, instantly breaking the pace of my forward progress.. it was a hockey-puck sized wad of raw chocolate chip cookie dough..

I know, I have no idea.

Anyway..I finally busted outta there and into the Florida heat. I hurried to my car and quickly tossed my purchases into the trunk. When I pack my own stuff, I have about half as many bags because I fill those suckers to the top. Bacon is in with the lotion, the lemons are crushing the greeting cards.. I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a mash up but hey, I use less plastic so somewhere I should be accumulating points for that.

I backed my car out of its spot after letting an old guy in a snow white Lincoln pass..my good deed leaving me now stuck behind him. His left blinker was on and I could see he was waiting for two ladies to finish loading their stuff into the back seat of a mini-van parked in the #1 handicapped spot. Not only were these two women going slow, I think they were sorting.

That is NEVER, EVER-EVER a good sign.

So there we sat for what seemed like an eternity until another woman came walking towards us, waved to the old guy and got into her car in the #3 handicapped spot. “Thank God!” I muttered as the old guy backed up a few feet to give her room to leave..and then..

and then..

he positioned himself right back where he was before- waiting for the #1 handicapped spot.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!” I bellowed, channeling a pretty decent version of John McEnroe during his out-of-control tennis years.

Meanwhile the ladies in spot #1 must have been making sandwiches or something for a Walmart Tailgate..

I considered leaning on the horn but when you live where I do you quickly realize most of the retired folks can’t hear.. so why bother. I plugged in my i-phone instead and listened to my latest download: God’s Country by Blake Shelton.

I imagined myself somewhere on an open range, driving an ATV, wind whipping my hair, (gnats plastered on my bifocals).. a gun slung over my shoulder protecting my farm land from… whatever. I sang along (loud) to the song (twice) and then suddenly..

a miracle..

The old guy decided the #3 spot would have to do after all.

“Bye bye Walmart” I fire-breathed to no one in particular as I sling shotted myself onto US-1.

I won’t be back for a while.