Sometimes it’s too damned much
Posted by Euroranger on October 12, 2010
Most of the times when I sit myself down to pen another blog post, I do so with some certain idea of the topic I want to cover and how I want to approach it. This normally results in a relatively coherent, flowing post that eventually meanders and winds its way to the conclusion I try and deliver the reader to. This post ain’t one of those times. Today I’m writing this not because I had some topic interesting enough to jar me out of my normal insuperable inertia but because I went to lunch. Now, probably everyone who isn’t otherwise known as “Euroranger” would say “big freakin’ hairy deal…I go to lunch all the time and almost never do I encounter anything worthy of taking the time to inform my fellow citizens about” and literally every other lunch of my lifetime, I’d be in complete boring agreement. Not today. No, today was different…and let me tell you why.
Have you been following the general flow of awful news of late? By that I mean if you haven’t heard the story of the Petit family that was slaughtered back in June of 2007 well, suffice to say that the crimes the two accused (and as of this week, one convicted) scumbags committed were pretty near a redefinition of the word “horror” for me when I read about them. They beat nearly to death the father (he survived) and then proceeded to rape, torture and then burn alive the mother, and the couple’s 16 and 10 year old little girls. This is one of those cases where I look at the dad, who was on the steps of the courthouse after the conviction came in for scumbag #1 earlier this week, and I wonder to myself “how does that man manage to find the strength each morning to NOT eat a bullet”? How the hell do you survive the slaughter of your family and knowing these animals did it in the most sadistic, violent manner possible? There isn’t a torture sufficient for either of these two “men” and they’ll most likely end up enjoying a couple of decades of appeals while their cases navigate a legal system that seems designed only to bring further suffering and pain to the victims. So, I started the week off with that exceptionally depressing piece of news. I then segued today to hearing on the radio how the search for a missing 10 year old girl in North Carolina has been called off as the investigation is now a murder case and not a missing child case. That’s pretty bad, right? Oh, well, it goes from “pretty bad” to “fucking awful” when you consider that the 10 year old girl suffered from bone cancer, had a prosthetic leg and hearing aids and came from a broken home. Oh yeah, it seems the investigation is now centering on the step-mom. Yay. I heard that one as I hopped into my Jeep to go to lunch today so I’m driving to get something to eat thinking “what the hell is wrong with the world such that people prey on little girls?”. I turned off my radio on the way there as I really didn’t want to have another surprise before I got to eat.
Anyway, I end up at a local Burger King…mostly because I had detoured to go buy a new book, was running short on time as a result and the restaurant was on the way. That and I have close to zero willpower sometimes when it comes to junk food…and I needed a dose of comfort food today. So, I pile out of the Jeep with my new book and as I approach the door I see this sedan parked in a handicapped space. Now, something I haven’t disclosed before: if it were ever made legal to horsewhip a perfectly able bodied person who parks in a handicapped space either with or without the special tag…well…that’ll be the day I’ve discovered my next career. I can’t begin to describe how much I detest people who don’t need to park in those spaces but do so anyway. I actually saw one at the Barnes and Noble a few minutes earlier: older guy with a mirror hanger but he hopped out of his SUV and moved to the door just as well as I did. Yeah, he’d get stripes from me if it was legal…his old ass be damned. Getting back to Burger King though, I get to this sedan and see two things right off the bat that makes me look twice. One is a young girl (hard to tell but she looked to me to be between 12 and maybe 14 or so) who’s in the back seat trying to get her walker out of the car by herself. The second thing I see is this older woman still in the driver’s seat with one of those medical halyards around her neck and wearing one of those medical office scrub tops. Oh, and her fat ass is sitting in the front seat texting while the little girl is struggling to get out of the car. Now sometimes I’d detour and ask the kid if I can help her but I didn’t know the circumstances for why she’d be using a walker. Maybe she doesn’t WANT help. Maybe she’s one of those people who want to do things on their own. In any event, I give it a lingering look and head inside and since there’s no line I’m served pretty much immediately.
As I’m placing my order, the sedan’s driver comes into the restaurant…minus the girl. I had just handed the cashier my debit card to pay for lunch and I stared at this sight for a moment long enough to have the cashier have to say “sir?” to remind me I hadn’t taken my card back. This woman waddles into the restaurant sans little girl. Not “got to the door first and waited for her to get there”. No, she drug her delightful self into Burger King and left this kid outside, ostensibly to get out of the car, set up her walker and get herself to the door. This scene only got better a moment later when, as I’m walking with my tray to find a table, I finally see the kid clearly. Leaning on her walker, she tops out at maybe 3 feet tall. This would be because her legs are pretty much just draggy little decorations off her torso. She’s supporting almost her entire weight on her arms on this walker…and she’s “standing” outside the door to the restaurant. As coincidence dictated, another customer was just leaving and they were kind enough to hold the door for her so she could scrape her way inside. The nurse? She was standing in line ordering without so much as a glance back at this kid. While my rage meter wasn’t the proper tool to measure the moment, my WTF/Concern meter did twitch somewhat off it’s normal “I don’t give a shit” setting. Anyway, little girl drags herself inside and presumably re-unites with the nurse who, I hope, ordered the kid some food. I locate a table, sit down and start to eat my lunch and read my new book.
A little while later lunch is finished and I’m looking for a good spot to close the book when I see the nurse exit the restaurant…alone. Like I suggested earlier, I might care about this situation only from time to time. I’m pretty much a live and let live kind of guy unless you’re abusing handicapped parking in which case I’m a “live and let you live long enough to regret it” kind of guy. So, simultaneous with seeing Porky disengage from the food trough I hear the scrape of the little girl’s walker. I wasn’t quite at a good stopping point in my book but I very calmly and without looking around, pack up my trash, mark my spot in the book and gather my stuff to leave. As it happens, the trash can is next to the exit and I time my arrival there just as the little girl arrives at the door. Like I said earlier, I didn’t want to presume anything in the way of this girl’s disability and so possibly offer offense by asking if she might like some assistance. However, this girl looks to be around the same age or so as my own daughter and watching Nurse Jabba presently sitting out in her car texting again pretty much ensured that I now looked down at her (and truly, I’m not a tall man by any means but I really had to look down to address her…which in itself was kind of oddly sad) and said “can I get the door for you, darling”. As a side note, I do speak fluent Southern and calling children “dear”, “sweetheart”, “darling” or other such means of friendly address isn’t uncommon as we do dote on children around here. Now, like I said, I hadn’t gotten a good look at her earlier but it didn’t appear, now that I was seeing her close up, that she had Downs Syndrome or other such mental infirmity. All I could discern was her little legs bound in braces and with shoes that looked all the world like little black wraparound flip flops. Anyway, in answer to my offer of assistance she says in the clearest little voice “yes, thank you” and I open the door, step out and hold it for her.
So, is this the end of the story, right? Not even close. You would think that with all that remains of my visit being the walk to my Jeep and the drive back to work that nothing more could happen that would be noteworthy. Well, you’d be wrong. As I’m holding the door for the little girl, God help me if this older man (by older I mean maybe late 40’s early 50’s) comes up and stands there waiting for her to clear the door. This dude is actually in her way such that she has to change course to go around him. She manages to avoid him and as I sit here I still have no idea how I’m not sitting in jail right this moment because as she’s just about clear he jumps the gun by a moment, jostles her, sweeps inside and doesn’t have the manners God gave a steaming pile of dog shit to be bothered to even say “thank you”. How it is that I didn’t immediately pursue him into the restaurant and haul his rude worthless ass back out to apologize can only be attributable to sheer amazement on my part. I was actually struck momentarily dumb that I just saw that. However, one of the good things about such an affront is that it doesn’t last but a moment and it’s replaced with a small dose of hot anger…which, Nurse Shamoo was about to benefit from.
Now, I won’t go about claiming I did anything heroic or say I spouted off all righteously to this worthless sack of shit in the sedan waiting for the kid to make her own way out and presumably get herself into the car without anything in the way of assistance. What I will tell you is that by now I’d had my fill of people being fucking selfish assholes today and as I take my few steps to catch up to the little girl and I come alongside the sedan I ask in a voice loud enough to be overheard two parking lots over “and do you need any help getting into the car, dear?”. Oh, I should probably mention that I said that while looking straight into the eyes of the nurse who by now had looked up from her cellphone to gaze lazily out the open window at the progress of her charge. I can’t really describe my tone of voice as I said it. The closest approximation I can come to is to say that I said it in such a manner as one would ask a little kid “and do you need me to beat the everloving shit out of this perambulating sack of shit as well, dear?”. Anyway, whether it was the words or the way they were spoken, Nurse Indolent came out of the car like her hair was on fire and managed to get around to the other side to open the rear door before the little girl got there. The little girl was nice and said “no thank you, I’ve got it” and I gave the nurse one more meaningful look like a fat kid would give a cupcake before I turned and headed off to go back to the office.
Why did I feel the need to post this? I have no real idea. I guess, in part, I’m pretty damned sick of the way life’s been abusing kids the past few days in my presence and while I believe in God (because he does pretty much hate me, you know) I’m not all that big a fan of how his actions are subtle, slow in coming and inscrutable. There are times when humanity needs actions that are immediate, righteous and energetic…just like the ass beatings that should be visited on people like jackasses who park in handicapped spots when they don’t need to and nurses who are probably supposed to be caring for someone but who are really just marking time punching a timecard. They both need and deserve a proper “physical lesson application session” to teach them the error of their ways…which to my mind would look remarkably like a very large boot being vigorously planted in a very deserving ass.
My name is Euroranger and I approved this message.