The Birds!

It's an injustice, I tell you!

Yes, I'm still ranting about the injustices of life.

Today my "hit" group? Old people.

Old people can be for the birds!

No, this is not a takeoff of the Hitchcock classic movie, The Birds.

Although it could be.

It's been awhile since I mentioned the fact that I reside in the sunny and very hot Mesa, Arizona.

We are just a hop, skip, and a dash away from Phoenix.

In fact, the greater Phoenix metropolis makes us more of a suburb of Phoenix, although technically we are a fully incorporated city with a mayor and a bunch of yahoos running our city government.

Our city is known to be pretty laid back. We recently had the honor of being dubbed one of the top ten most boring cities in the United States.

I'll take it.

We are also famous for the many Mormons that live here (of which I am one).

We are part of Maricopa County home to the infamous Sheriff Joe Arpaio and his tent cities and pink striped prison suits.

We are also the landing place for many snowbirds.

You all know what snowbirds are: those retired, rich folks with blue or gray hair. They fly south (here in Arizona) for the winters and they fly back north (wherever) for the summers.

Well guess what?

They're he-ere!

And after having lived here for many moons, you get to know which areas of the city are bonafide snowbird nests.

I had to venture into one on Monday.

There is this wonderful farmer's market which sells outstanding produce for outstanding prices. Unfortunately, it is located right in the middle of a huge Snowbird Area aka Snowbird Nest. It's a bit far from my house, but it is well worth the trip.

Most of the time.

I had forgotten what a headache it can be when the "birds" are back in town.

This outing proved that point beyond any doubt.

First, as I was approaching the market in my car, I got stuck behind a "bluebird" (old lady with blue hair) in her Cadillac.

Nice wheels, lady.

And I had a very long opportunity to check out her vehicle as we moseyed along the street going 20 mph in a 45 mph speed zone. Cars whizzed by in the other lane, making it near impossible for me to switch lanes to go around her.

Nice.

Then the store itself was jam packed with the birds. You have to maneuver yourself very carefully in that store. Don't speed, park the carts on the right side of the aisle while perusing or picking fruit and vegetables, with moving cart traffic always travelling on the left side of the aisles.

But of course, there is always somebody (in this case, another bird) who has to break the rules to make it much harder on us all.

This Old Biddy had his cart angled and blocking the left part of the aisle.

A huge NO-NO.

Several people called out, "Excuse me."

Of course, the dear Old Biddy must not have had his hearing aid turned up loud enough, because he continued to ignore the cries for help.

The line of shoppers with carts grew longer.

I started hot-flashing.

He kept picking up one apple at a time, inspecting it, sniffing it, licking it (well maybe not that), and poking it, then replacing the "failing" fruit back into the bin. Finally, another bird, this time a Blue Bird, tapped him on the shoulder.

(In a grumpy voice) "WHA? Whose tapping me?"

"Sir, could we please get by?"

"Well, why didn't you just say sumpin'?"

*sigh*

Finally a few infinites later, my purchases were paid for and I was more than ready to leave.

I started towards the parking lot, pushing my cart about three steps behind a man using a walker. Instinctively, I kept an appropriate distance from "Walker Man."

You know how there is an inherent rule of the road that you never drive exactly alongside another car in the next lane? I don't know about you all, but it feels creepy to me when somebody does. I guess my space bubble is larger than most people's.

About this time, I noticed that Old Biddy aka Walker Man (meant with the utmost love and charity) kept slowing down, so I had to make a decision. I could slow down and maintain the distance or speed up and try to get ahead of him.

I opted for the latter.

But it didn't work.

Didn't that Old Biddy aka Walker Man (again, meant with the utmost love and charity) speed up just as I was right beside him! So I chose to slow down...and...he...DID...too!

What the bird?

This happened at least two more times and I'm screaming in my head, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WALKER MAN?"

It was like doing the sidewalk tango.

I did not appreciate it. Not one bit.

I finally stopped and he veered to the left going onto another sidewalk where he could torture another vibrant, young lady (cuz compared to these folks, I am!).

I finally reached my car, unloaded my bags, got in, rolled down my windows, cranked up my CD player and left that place with Aerosmith's "Pink" screaming out of my car.

Yep, I showed them birds!

Until next week.

Gah!

*caw, caw*



B.S. No Old Biddies, Blue Birds, or Walker Men were harmed during the production of this post. (Thank goodness, or I'd be blogging from a tent city jail right now, with pink-striped overalls, although "Pink" is my favorite color!)