Danger on aisle four!

It was the day after Christmas and we were making a quick family trip to Target to pick up some supplies.  Only, I'm not always so quick these days; in fact, Hubby often tells me I shop like the elderly.  (Well!?  I don't get out as much as I used to!)  And then there was the matter of the miniature tree I'd been trying to find for the bambino, for next Christmas.  I just needed to go and look at the discounted holiday stuff...

And that's when it happened.  I'd found William's tree: a whimsical little number, on sale for the unbelievable price of $4.50, and I called Hubby over to share in my joy.  "Hey, come see this!"  The aisles were crowded, and we probably should have left the store 20 minutes ago, and although I noticed he gave me a barely perceptible roll of his blue eyes, Hubby complied.

"Excuse me," he said to the woman and teenager blocking the aisle.  "Oh, sorry, sorry!" said the boy, who looked about 14 or 15, and I remember thinking it was a little strange the way he'd apologized like that.  

In hindsight, had I been playing the role of Hubby, I might have replied, "That's okay, man" or something to that effect.  But alas, Hubby did not.  And before we knew it, the kid's mother was screaming, in an outraged, aggressive tone, "What's his problem?  He's giving you a dirty look!?  Some people are so rude!"

Now that this soul had grabbed my attention, I couldn't help but notice she was a rough looking, pajama wearing, heavyset woman.  A tough broad, you might say; easily two times my size.

"I hope he teaches his baby some manners!"

Um, yes.  She was talking about us.  We were being made into quite the spectacle.  Hubby and I stood motionless, my hand on the baby's stroller, and it was only then that I realized I was still holding onto my tiny tree.  "So...what was it you wanted to show me?" Hubby asked, cool as a cucumber, not acknowledging the screaming banshee five feet to our right.  (So very Hubby of him.)

I should mention that my Scorpio husband possesses the infuriating ability to exude zenlike calm in the face of extreme anger.  Often he's looked at me, after I've worked myself up into a terrific Sagittarius frenzy, and has calmly asked, "Why are you yelling?" which naturally only adds fuel to the fire.  It seems he had the same effect on this woman, too.  She was becoming unhinged.  As she stomped over to the next aisle, still screaming about what a bastard my husband was, her silent teenager in tow, I hissed, "What did you say to that kid?  Were you rude or something?"  Hubby looked at me like I was nuts.  "I said excuse me, what else was I supposed to say?"

It was really time to leave.  But not before I picked up a miniature green tree skirt and some tiny garland (Yes!  Yes!  Yes!) and also not before a very large dude, who I took to be the woman's brute husband, walked by Hubby, looked him straight in the eye and said, "You're a f*cking asshole."

Holy schnikes!  Were we in Bizarro Land or something?  Hubby hadn't even done anything to this kid, and now these crazies were going all Jerry Springer on us!  "We're gonna get effing stabbed!" I whispered to Hubby.  "I don't want any trouble!"  I joked.  And I didn't.  I can be as mouthy as the next person, but there's a time and a place.  Something about this lady and her companions (there were several of them) told me they were not to be trifled with.  Some inner voice, or spirit guide, or maybe just my years of city living instructed me not to engage.  Truth be told I wanted to wrap that miniature garland around her beefy old neck when she'd made that crack about teaching my son manners, but her wrath had subdued me into a kind of mystified stupor.  Incidentally, what kind of an example was this crackpot setting for her own son?  

Are people going mad?  This wasn't the only spontaneous public meltdown I witnessed that week, I also saw an elderly man screaming F bombs at a woman in a crosswalk later that day.  Do the holidays bring out the crazy in people?  Did we somehow unconsciously manifest this ugly exchange?  

Luckily we made it home without getting jumped in the parking lot.  And after some reflection I was actually quite impressed by Hubby's levelheadedness, because a different man may have started screaming right back.  But that's not Hubby's style, especially now that he's become a father, and I was glad of it.

That night I wrote in the One Line a Day journal I've been keeping for William: "Bought you a miniature tree today for next Christmas!  With mini lights, etc.  Yay!"  A decidedly abbreviated and rose colored version, for sure, but that's the thing about life, and motherhood- sometimes we get to edit out the ugly.  Like unprovoked Christmastime altercations in Target and stuff.

Comments

[Weinerdog]

You needed me there! I woulda' told that beefeater where ta go!

[the odd broad]

Gurl don't I know it!!! These people were looking for a fight. Freaked me out! I don't want no trouble! Ahhhhh! They were like bad extras from a Marky Mark film.

[the odd broad]

Or a film about Boston by one of the Afflecks...you watch it and think, this cam't be real! Oh, but it is...