I can't figure out if I am just in a prolonged ranting mood, or, if I am turning into one of those prudish, mean, overbearing, outspoken old women that stick their noses into everyone’s business and call the cops at the slightest provocation. I am finding that so many of the things I encounter in my daily life, make me want to find a isolated mountain top or deserted tropical island to move to, if such things still exist.
Today, we were eating in our favorite diner when a fortyish woman came in and sat down at the counter. She looked like she spent her days laying asphalt. She was dressed in men’s clothing: muscle shirt, jeans and work boots. Her hair was in braided pigtails and both arms were covered from wrist to shoulder in tattoos. The waitress set a double order of biscuits and gravy in front of her and she quickly stirred everything into a pile of mush and started stuffing large spoonfuls into her mouth. Within minutes she was fishing a trucker’s wallet from her hip pocket as she took giant strides toward the register. It was all I could do to keep from going over and pointing out to her how ridiculous her look and behavior were. Actually, I should have been praying for the poor soul since she seemed to be a man trapped in a woman's body.
I am finding that children have neither manners nor imagination and I want to shake their parents or submit them to a public flogging. Would they really want to have adult versions of their children living next door to them for the rest of their lives.
When out for our nightly walks it takes all the will I can muster to keep from knocking on doors and chastising people for allowing their nice city property to become virtual junkyards strewn with all manner of derelict items. Or, should I become the anonymous crackpot calling the city?
A few days ago I passed two different houses that had old tattered recliners sitting on the front porch. I know for a fact that they have been there for several years and I so wanted to go offer to replace them with a nice porch swing. Does someone have to point out the obvious conclusions drawn about those that live there?
I am very rapidly reaching the point of not wanting to go for a walk without taking along several trash bags and my grabber. We will be walking on a nice street with lovely manicured homes and the curbs will be full of litter. Do people really not notice that someone left beer bottles, soda cans or leftover Mickey D’s in front of their house. Well, after the third day, I want to collect it for them and tie the bag to their front door with a nasty note.
This last Saturday I attended a wedding at my church. The thirty something bride and all of her bridesmaids were wearing expensive formal strapless gowns. As they walked down the aisle I noticed three ankle tattoos and one shoulder tattoo. All were barelegged, two were in mules and kept falling off the platform of their shoes, and two were so busty they were falling out of the top of their dresses. Bad enough to have this in front of a church full of people, but, to stand on the Lord’s alter half naked? I’m still trying to talk myself out of writing a letter to the priest suggesting that he start giving better instructions to the brides on what is proper in church attire or just refuse to perform the ceremony until they get covered up.
Boy, am I turning into some type of witch or is it just that the world has gone to blazes?