Have you ever wondered what aliens would do to us if they really wanted to test the limits of human endurance? Traffic and grocery shopping, that’s my bet. And the parking lots of grocery stores? Pure gold for the alien scientist who is looking to measure what metrics drive humans to homicide. That has to be it. Nothing else explains better the behavior of human beings in traffic and while shopping than alien influence. Or stupidity. Aliens are more fun to write about.
It’s the five o’clock rush. There’s a section of US84 heading west to Quitman between I-75 and Rocky Ford Road that’s weird and dangerous. People like me are trying to head west out of Valdosta. Then there are those that are going out via Rocky Ford. Then there are people making right turns off 84 in between. The Solution? It’s just over a mile of driving. Stay in your lane.
Right off the bat yesterday, a pickup truck pulling a box trailer, a very large box trailer, was heading west, after five, towards Quitman. Yep, I have to share the road with this. He’s put on his left blinker, then his right blinker, and then he pulled into the turn lane, and then back out again. I decide to drop back. The One Word of Truth here is this: An Idiot in front of you is less dangerous than an idiot behind you. The Aliens nod in agreement. This is a test. They want to see who is paying attention. So they throw in the unexpected. The truck pulls into the middle lane, then suddenly turns right, cutting off both westbound lanes, and nearly clipping someone making right in the right turn lane. Nicely done, Aliens, but I was far enough back to brake out of it.
The grocery store is likewise crowded. I am out of food so I must go in. I park a half mile away because there are people, able-bodied people, who would pull into the front door if they could. There’s a couple arguing, loudly, as they shop, and they brought their two kids. They have a cart, and each child has been given one. The two kids are drag racing one another in a crowded store. The parents’ modus operandi is to park the cart in the aisle and then wander off while arguing over who gets “the good car” tomorrow. She has the kids. But he has to go to Albany. I want to suggest letting the kids push him to Albany in the carts and the Aliens smile at my thoughts.
The Aliens never directly affect us. They plant small thoughts in our heads and then measure our reactions. The thought arrives and before they can start the timer, I am off like a saucer. Let’s go over to the pharmacy and pick up few items, good, and then let’s stalk the Albany Gang. Perfect. They’re in dairy and their cart is around the corner in the snack aisle.
Insert one Box Condoms, Large Size, as in physical size, not count, insert one paternity test, and insert one package of one tube of magical heating personal lubrication, into their cart, hidden under the package of cube steak.
Exit stage left.
The Aliens grin.
firesmithMike writes regularly at his site: The Hickory Head Hermit