Ah, the beauty of “working” from home. One stays in pajamas all day, watches true crime shows on TV, and pretends to work by checking emails and responding quickly. Kind of like a cheap vacation without any booze. Good times, good times. Pretty much what I’ll be doing for the next week or so. Might even work up to a nap on the couch. We’ll see how it goes.
Just to be different today I decided to try something new: working from Wegmans. Wegmans is like my second home. I really could live here if only they’d let me bring in a bed and I could find somewhere to shower. I spend about as much money here as I do on my rent and my mortgage. Frankly, Lord only knows how they haven’t named a wing after me. This place is totally my Disney Land – only without the creepy theme characters and with more air conditioning. It’s a delight.
As I was making my way up to the second floor to grab a spot to claim as my own I ran into a roadblock – an old man in a motorized wheelchair. A grumpy old man. He was blocking the path for everyone. A few people tried to squeeze by him and were all met with a grumble and a glare. Attempting a different approach, I walked up to him, smiled and said, “excuse me.” He stared at me and said, “Wait your turn.” Um, what? You’re blocking the whole fucking path, you old bastard!
“Dad!” yelled his son, “let her through!” The old man stared at his son and refused to move.
I smiled at the son and said, “No worries, I can go around. He must be tired, I would be at that age.” And I walked around.
About five minutes later I had my ice tea and had just stepped into the elevator. Just as the doors were about to close the son and the old man approached. “HOLD THE ELEVATOR!” screamed the old man. I smiled at him while I pressed the close door button and said, “wait your turn,” as the doors closed.