Granny Road Rage....

I had just finished my last errand on a cold, rainy December afternoon and was making my way back to my car through a busy mall parking lot, eager to get home to enjoy the rest of my day off.  On a rainy day at the mall so close to Christmas, people are in a persnickety mood.  I didn't want to get in anyone's way or add further stress to a stranger's day.  However there are those who treat Christmas shopping like it's ice hockey.    I was about to meet two senior citizens who almost treated it like a demolition derby.

The parking lots were pretty full, and people were slowly orbiting around the parking islands in their cars, trying to find a spot that would grant them minimal exposure to the rain.  Then something interrupted the soundscape; two different vehicles honking and revving their engines followed some female voices first pleading and then shouting.  I came around a corner to see two very large American sedans (think Cadillac or Oldsmobile,) both nosing in to a compact parking spot immediately in front of the kind of shops old ladies like to frequent, quaint albeit useless tsotchkes on serenely lit shelves up to the ceiling and reeking of cinnamon oil.   The exchange was catching the attention of casual bypassers, who were stopping to tut-tut at the vulgar behavior being displayed.  I felt a smirk spread across my cheeks in spite of myself, and moved closer, wanting to hear what was being said.  

As I approached one of the drivers abruptly flung her door open and got out of the car, which startled me.  She had to be at least 70, wearing black leggings and clunky white tennis shoes, sporting a white sweatshirt with a picture of a kitten playing with Christmas ornaments on it.  "I was here first!" she hollered at the driver while waving her hands in the air.  The other woman slowly opened her door and very methodically exited her car.  She was somewhat older, wearing a purple wool overcoat reminiscent of Mary Poppins, and a matching hat with a clear vinyl covering over it.  "You saw me waiting!" she snapped as she tottered around the trunk towards her adversary "You stole this spot and you know it!"

Bystander eyes were widening and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.  They were talking over each other now, standing in a puddle and slowly getting into one another's personal space while both their cars sputtered white exhaust into the damp December air.  Traffic was backed up in both directions, and somebody several car lengths back leaned on their horn the pulled a U-turn out of the line.

Their voices were steadily rising in both volume and pitch, and the sentences were getting shorter.  I've seen this several times with young idiots right before they came to blows, and could barely believe I was witnessing this behavior displayed by elderly women.  Kitten shirt reached into her purse and threw a packet of Kleenex at Mary Poppins' car, which sailed over the hood and landed on the sidewalk at my feet. There was no stifling my laughter at this point.  It was all I could do to keep it under my breath. 

As amusing as this was, I also recognized that being knocked over onto concrete in a geriatric catfight could have some serious legal and medical consequences. Besides, this was no way for anyone to spend the holidays, so I decided to end the incident.  I walked into the parking spot towards them, mentally rehearsing how I was going to snap them out of this.  They both noticed me when I stepped off the curb, paused for a split second, then Kitten Shirt got back in her car and aggressively reversed, nearly hitting the car she had trapped behind her.  She drove on the wrong side of the road around Poppins' car, and as she did screeched (I shit you not,) "This isn't over!" out the passenger window.  

That was it - the absolute living end.   I started laughing loudly and without shame - this was one of the greatest things I had ever witnessed and no social norms would be allowed to contain the expression of my mirth.  I had to lean against a pillar to keep from falling on the ground.  The cold air tagged my asthma and I started coughing.  I didn't care, I just kept laughing through it.  I gradually became aware that the people who had been standing agape just moments before were now glaring at me like I was TV.  I surveyed the crowd - they were who you'd expect on a Wednesday afternoon at Crossroads mall right before Christmas. Namely, women in their 50's and non-MILF soccer moms.  All of them glowering at me - if looks could kill. Of course, this was funny too, and I brought my hand up to my mouth to stifle my glee in preparation to mumble an apology before making a beeline for my car.  

Then my eyes settled on the glowering unibrow through gauche librarian glasses and sneering vermilion lips under the worst perm I've ever seen.    Her expression looked like she had just bit into a fart-flavored lemon and I started laughing even harder, which just a moment before hadn't seemed possible.  I fell back against the pillar clutching my hand to my chest while the other one almost involuntarily pointed squarely at her.  This precipitated a great deal of scoffing and head shaking as the peanut gallery dispersed to return to their holiday shopping.  I myself decided to get out of there before the police or mall security arrived. I have no idea where Mary Poppins went, but when I left a different car was in that spot.  Yes, I realize laughing like that was immature and rude and I do feel bad about that.  At the same time, I defused what was becoming a dangerous situation and COME ON!!  I'm not made of stone here! It was REALLY FUNNY!