Despite the fact that I am “The Armchair Critic”, I usually keep my criticisms to myself; however, every once in a while I have such a bad day I need to vent. Alas, today is that day! I haven’t been in this bad a mood in quite some time, so if for no other reason than to make myself feel better, I shall now get a few things off my chest. Here goes:
To the driver of the giant, red SUV in the parking lot, kindly move it. You looked like a pretty robust fella to me; there was no apparent reason for you to hold up traffic while you waited for the parking space closest to the store to clear. I beeped my horn at you not because I wanted your precious parking space but to alert you that the position of your car prohibited me from completing my turn, leaving the rear of my car dangerously exposed to traffic. And your vehicle is so huge, I could not see around you to safely pass. Thank you very much for “waving” at me.
To the cashier in the farmers’ market, thank you for the flimsy, plastic bag. My groceries shot right through the bottom and onto the ground in the parking lot. To the idiot (namely me) who thought such a cheap bag could carry a heavy load, think twice next time.
To the lady buying cigarettes in Rite Aid, it would have been nice if you had stopped talking on your cell phone long enough to realize you cut in front of me. But since you were rudely chatting on the phone while the cashier was talking to you, I doubt you would have cared.
To the guy driving behind me on the Garden State Parkway, I’m doing the speed limit. If you don’t like it, get off my tail and pass me.
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To the man huffing and puffing on a bike with a child trailer attached to it, if you have two little ones in that trailer, what are you doing in traffic on New Monmouth Road? Isn’t there a safer place to tour around with such precious cargo?
To the priest in the pulpit, a sermon doesn’t need theatrics. Give it up already! We came to hear you preach, not perform.
To whoever makes the rules at Tomaso Plaza, the senior citizen complex off Route 35 in Middletown, why have you ruined the parking situation? You have hundreds of residents, yet you divided the visitors’ parking lot in half and allocated only ten or so parking spaces for your residents’ family and friends. How does that make sense? If you don’t want a parking problem, don’t create one.
To the lady who accepted my offer of a fifty percent off coupon in the craft store, you forgot to say thank you. You’re welcome – I guess.
To the producers of reality television, what are you people smoking? How many illusive swamp creatures can hillbillies hunt for? How many more singing contests, bogus ghost hunters, dancing or cheer-leading kids, or fowl mouthed idiots looking for love in all the wrong places are you going to turn into millionaires?
To the soda delivery man in the grocery store, pull your pants up. We shoppers do not need to see your Fruit of the Loom, and if your lack of a belt is some kind of fashion statement, you missed the mark – or I just don’t get it.
And another thing: Drivers, if you haven’t got a handicapped placard, do not park in the handicapped space meant for those who need it. Mothers, if you are shopping with your little ones in tow, hold their hands in the parking lot; glancing behind you once in a while isn’t enough to ensure their safety. Everybody, if you meet someone who recently moved to New Jersey, don’t tell them why you think they shouldn’t have; their choice is none of your business.
Well, that about covers it for now. So, until the next time the world gets my dander up, here’s hoping you have a better day than I did.