The Christmas Spirit is Strong in this One...Not!
So you know that scene in "El Norte" when the old man is telling the young Indian guy the secrets of how to not be accused of NOT being Mexican if the INS/Police catches you? (I'm feeling an odd sense of deja vu here, did I already spout this maybe same time last year? I am far too lazy to check so I'll solder-on instead, tee hee.) Where was I?
Oh yeah, so when my dad watched this bit of the movie he got very angry. The old guy pretty much told the young guy to swear up a storm. Cuz those Messicans swear just about every other word! (And my dad, oh my dad, got so mad he swore up a storm right then and there WHILE DENYING that what that old man had just said had any *#!$-ing truth to it...hee hee.)
Why do I dredge this memory up again?
Picture it, Scicily 1921...I mean, Wallingford Post Office 2007...
I go to that post office for one reason and one reason only: They have not 1, but 3 parking "lots." (Wee little things, but we take what we can get around here.) But all is lost if you turn at the wrong time and/or a white suburban decides to ruin your evening, or bring out the Mexican in me...
$&%!-ing xmas spirit!
Really, I could not believe how mad I was.
The entrance into the first two itty bitty parking lots are down a skinny little street that is barely wide enough for the two way traffic when there aren't cars parked on either side. But we who have lived in Seattle (and any small towns with skinny roads due to the 15 feet of snowbanks 9 months out of the year) are becoming experts at the "one-at-a-time" "see-the-space, be-the-space" maneuvering that happens down these mean little streets.
So, after having fought tooth and nail to get out of work early, and then more fighting, dodging and weaving to even get as far as that little street near the post office, I turn to find my way blocked by cars cars cars. That's okay, I think, we're all going to the same place anyway, right? There is no other reason to turn down this wee little street unless you intend to go to the post office and/or drop off your mail in the mail boxes. We're all good.
Um, wrong again.
The cars in front of me wanted to go to the post office, as did the CARS going in the opposite way. But the HUGE, WHITE, SUBURBAN? No no no no no. She wanted to just pass on through. This would not have been a problem if we had not been the ones partnered to do the "little street shuffle." See, I wanted to turn RIGHT INTO THE DRIVEWAY where she had decided was the perfect spot to slip out of the way in and LET ME PASS.
Okay, so if I hadn't had my turn signal on, I could have let this one go. Understandable mistake on my part, etc. But I did just mention I HAD MY TURN SIGNAL ON? There was only one place I could turn into...
So I just sit there, wondering how to work this...and I look at her and point to myself and then to the driveway in that "Me, Jane, need go there" way.
She responds with, "Me, dumbass, need go where you are, please pass" hand gesture.
We were close enough so that she saw me frown, because she frowned and repeated that "go ahead and pass" thing, only, not so nicely.
I shook my head and repeated where I needed to go.
She began laying on her horn and pointing for me to get out of the way.
I lost it.
I don't remember how many different languages and ancestors I channeled, but every ounce of my Mexican nature (a la that whole swearing thing) burst forth (cuz really, if I honked? With my cute little Toyota horn that goes "eep eep" -- against her Suburban horn? So not worth the embarrassment. But remember how close we were? The look on her face even before I showed her the very obvious hand gesture that I was not pleased before I gave up and moved on, was so worth the scary left turn and extra couple u-turns so I could try again with her far far away.
Right. So that little bit of fun made my waiting in line for forever seem not so bad. I mean, really now, everyone INSIDE the post office was once again, all just trying to do the same thing and mail off packages and not piss off the postal workers.
We were all so deliriously happy to be there and not at home frantically trying to finish--or worse, still shopping for gifts that need to be mailed that we were in our own little euphoria.
Had this not been the case I might have used my metal DPNs to show the smelly couple behind me what personal space really means. Cuz really people, I don't care how much smoking has killed YOUR sense of smell, mine works, far too well and I really don't want you to keep pushing your legs against my bag, it's not going to make me move any close to the person in front of me!
Did I mention xmas spirit? Right. Wake me when it's over, I am so very burned out about it all.