A member of my widow support group, Irene, came over this morning because we were both feeling lonely, and I was making breakfast – “Dutch Babies” for my students and thought she’d like to join us. After eating, we decided to go up to Ft. Rosecrans and “see” our husband’s and tell them what they missed. They were waiting for us in their little “niche” and we bawled them out for leaving us when they did. (Interestingly enough we did not know Irene and Johnny; Irene and I met in our support group, but the “wall” that Bob and Johnny are in are very close to each other and we presume that they “meet” often and discuss the dirty trick they played on us, their wives.
After leaving the cemetery, we wandered around Pt. Loma looking for estate sales – only found one – where this time I was the big spender – 50 cents worth of holiday gifts for December.
As we were heading home, I looked at my gas gauge and asked Irene if she would mind going to Costco to buy gas. We had no other plans – except to stop at the yogurt place – so we headed to Morena Blvd. for a fill up.
Traffic was relatively light going north; coming into the beach areas cars were lined up, not appearing to move at all. We commented on how glad we were to be going the “other way.”
Remember when cars that were for sale were lined up on Morena just before you got to Costco? Now there is a sign up that says that “no cars for sale can be parked on the street.” But…that didn’t stop people from parking on the street – cars that were turning into the Costco lot had to swerve around the beautiful convertible that was parked just at the entrance. There were many sounds of squealing brakes and horn honks and several maneuvers that could only be described as “defying” were executed.
When I finally made my turn into the gas station, the “attendant” – have you ever noticed an attendant there before? –saw my handicap permit and came over and asked me if I was going to need any help. I said I didn’t think so, but she said she would keep an eye on me, and when I took my place in line she was right there to put my credit card in the slot; open the gas compartment; push the 87 octane button, and insert the gas hose. As the gas was pumping, I mentioned how I should have bought gas yesterday when I was there because it had gone up in price. She told me it went up 3 cents from Wednesday to today, when it went up 5 cents more over night. She also said that Costco sends out “scouts” twice a day to see what the prices are at gas stations in the neighborhood. It is when they have that cost they decide how much they will charge for gas. That is the reason that not all the Costco gas stations offer the same price for gas. She mentioned that Santee is usually cheaper than Morena; Fashion Valley is usually more than Morena; Poway is a “hit and miss”, etc. I vaguely remembering hearing something like that before, but Kathryn’s explanation was interesting.
She thanked me for doing my shopping at Costco, and Irene and I were on our way to the yogurt shop. BUT…JUST A MINUTE! When I came to the end of the aisle to make a left hand turn to leave the shopping area, there was steady stream of cars coming into the lot. (Maybe the beach was all fogged in and everyone that had been on their way to the beach area turned around and went to Costco instead!) I waited, and waited, and waited. The sign next to me stated that the area that I was in was a “one-way” street and no turns were allowed. Yeah! Right! The first person that made the right hand turn was driving a large SUV – and almost smashed into me. I could not make the left hand turn because of the traffic coming from the other areas that were trying to exit to the street. And then – the cacophony of horns began – at me. WTF! I could not make a turn; and at least 10 cars entered the parking lot. Even though I tried to edge out into the oncoming traffic, no one would stop and let me through. Then another SUV, driven by a person that obviously could not read the “One Way” sign, made his right, going the wrong way. And the horns now doubled in noise – at me? At the wrong way driver? Who knows? But there was not a single thing that I could do – I could not make the turn into the lane I needed to be in to leave the lot because of traffic coming both ways. It was amazing to Irene and me to hear all the different sounds that car horns can make. However, they all had one thing in common: They were irritating sons of bitches!
When the 3rd driver made his turn onto the wrong way street, I made my quickly executed turn, only to be honked at by the man I cut off when I crossed the line. I made the signal out of the lot – he did not. And…as best as I could tell, the line of “honkers” were still honking – and I hope they are still sitting there now trying to get out of the lot!
If Irene were a drinker, we probably would have gone to the nearest bar; instead we went to the yogurt shop and assuaged our nerves with a taste of everything offered.
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