Friday, March 12, 2010

I swear, people in the world today...

So, I was at the grocery store the other day...

I pulled into the parking lot and just parked the car in any old spot, first one I saw. Now, if you know me, you KNOW this is not the norm - I always look for an "end" space (less of a chance to get door dings!), never in the middle. However, this time, I thought to myself, "I'm only going to be in there for five minutes - run in, run out - it will be fine."

As I pulled into the parking spot, I noticed that the passenger door of the car on my left was open. Not ajar, but not wide open either - just enough to be slightly in the space I was trying to park in. I waited for a bit, thinking the person in the car would hear my car and close the door a bit. Nope. Not wanting to block the aisle, I pulled into the spot (carefully!) after about 15 seconds.

Turning the car off, I looked over and waited for the guy to pull the door in a bit so I could get out. Strike two. He sat there, staring at me as if to say, "Well? What are you waiting for? You going to sit there all night?" Sheesh...okay, okay, fine. After sitting there for a half a minute, I opened the door and squeezed myself out of the car.

Now, for those who know me and how particular I am with my parking spots, you are saying to yourself, "DSD, what the heck are you doing parking between two cars? Were the spaces the size of Texas?" I shall explain. Since I was stopping at the store for just 2 things, I knew where to find it and knew it would only take me about 5 minutes to get in and out of there. Lo and behold, it literally took me about 4 1/2 minutes to find the stuff I needed and complete the check-out process.

I made my way back to the car, only to find the guy still ariring out his car. I approached and paused for a second, then asked, "Excuse me, could you please close your door a couple of inches, just so I can get in my car?"

Guy peers out from behind the center beam of the car, looks at me, looks at my car, then looks at me again and declares, "No, I'm good."

Uh...not quite what I asked, douchebag. You and your skinny jeans-wearing, emo haircut-ing arse can close the door, or I will close it for you! Man, some people just don't teach their kids manners anymore.

Maybe if they read my blog, they could purchase one of these fine books and LEARN some manners.