Today my family and I set out for a little shopping. We had to make several stops and daylight was burning. We piled into the car and set out.
First stop, the toy store. We had $100 in gift cards to use, my kid was jacked. We walked around for about 10 minutes. We bought toys, the kid was happy, no crazies to speak of.
Second stop, the thrift store. My wife and I love thrift store shopping. We go inside searching for deals. Again, we walked around for about 10 minutes, found a few things and we’re ready to go. I’m waiting in line while my wife rushes around looking for last-minute nick knacks.
In front of me there’s a locked cabinet full of little trinkets and gadgets. A man walks up to the cabinet and asks the woman at the register to open it. “I’ll call someone,” she says. She immediately gets on the phone and asks for assistance.
20 seconds go by, the man stood there, swaying from foot to foot, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. “Is someone coming, or am I just standing here,” he blurts. “Someone will be with you shortly,” she responded.
The anxious man turned around, faced the wall, and starting doing neck rolls. Around and around his head went. He looked nuts. We paid for our things and left.
Third stop, the bookstore. It’s in a huge shopping plaza with several other stores. We pulled in and scored a prime spot, right by the entrance. We decided that I should go in solo, we didn’t feel like dragging our son inside. Besides, he had toys to occupy him.
When I got out of the car I noticed a man hanging halfway out of his van, passenger door propped open, talking away. At first I thought that he was on his phone. It took a second to realize that he didn’t have a phone.
He was staring right at me, jabbering away. “Excuse me,” I said. He shooed me away like a fly. It was obvious that I had annoyed him. I mean— how dare I think someone staring at me, while talking, may be talking to me.
I started to walk in— but at this point I’m having reservations about leaving my wife and kid in the car alone. When I got to the passenger side he yelled out “Hey pal, you need a roommate.” Of course, I respond “NO.” “That’s what I thought,” the man said, then started muttering incoherently. Screw this— this is how horror novels start. I got into my car, started the engine, gave up my prime parking spot and drove all the way across the shopping plaza. Far away from the crazy man.
I was driving down the lane, looking for a spot, when someone started backing out of their spot. I couldn’t tell if the strange person driving was a man or a woman. It had on huge sunglasses and sported a full head of curly hair. Curly like Bozo the clown.
Going, going, going, smash– right into the parked car behind him/her. Bozo was oblivious. It put its car into drive and drove off like nothing happened. It drove by staring straight ahead, hands at 10 and 2 on the wheel.
I drove by the smashed car and parked in a spot close to the walkway. On the walkway there was what appeared to be a homeless man. He wore a backpack and bickered with all the people walking by. I was thinking that this F-ing place is nuts today.
I hurried into the bookstore and grabbed a few paperback thrillers. I was in and out in less than 20 minutes. I fired up the car and started to drive away from the crazy place. Before we get out of the parking lot, my wife tells me about a man who walked by while I was in the store. He walked by with nothing but an opened jar of pickles. Munching away.
Yep— the crazies were definitely out today.
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