Canes of mass destruction

You ever notice how old people who are using a mobile aid seem to be just fakin’ it half the time? Like, rather than pushing their walker they are practically carrying it? Or that cane they suddenly use as a dance prop? Filthy liars. I’m pretty sure they’re just vying for more attention. Obviously. That or they just want to mess with you simply because they can.

Like yesterday – I had to go to Wally World to pick up a prescription (shut it! It’s like $30 cheaper than Walgreens!) Of course, right as I’m walking in, this ancient women in this mobile wheelchair-connected-to-a-shopping-cart thing gets in front of me. And. Goes. Very. Very. Slowly. Like you’d think the thing hadn’t been charged since Moses parted the Red Sea or something.

Of course where do old people go? If you said anything other than the pharmacy, Robert Goulet is gonna be at your house tomorrow at 3pm to mess with your stuff. And you deserve it. Yeah, I’m an asshole, but cutting off biblically old people at the Wal-Mart would probably result in some sort of lynch mob. I really don’t want to find out.

So, I’m behind her. Walking. Very. Very. Slowly. I mean like snails and turtles and stuff were flying by us. We get to the pharmacy area and I also now have to buy a razor because I look like a French Hippie my legs are so hairy. What does this woman do? Oh that’s right, she hits turbo on her chair and **zoom** literally takes off leaving me in a cloud of Wal-Mart floor dirt. The hell?

Why exactly didn’t this happen like 10 years ago? Whatever – shake it off.

Theeeen about 15 or so minutes later, the boyfriend and I are pursing the shampoo isle (yeah I didn’t do so good with the dirt-ass cheap shampoo) and guess who’s blocking my view of half of the products? Yep – the first woman on earth. Still in her mobile wheelchair/shopping cart thing. This time, another woman is with her as well. Of course I smile and act like it’s totally no big deal that I can’t even look at half the shampoos. Who cares? I’m already rockin’ the Hippy thing from it taking half a century to get to the pharmacy so who needs clean hair right? I’ll just mash it into dreads so that’s totally cool.

Eventually they leave and I zone in on the area they were previously blocking. But what’s that sound off to my right there? Oh! It’s Grandma Moses in the chair hittin’ it in reverse. Then forward. Then reverse. Then forward. The hell??

I’m trying to avoid eye contact because I have a sneaking suspicion that she wants me to move so she can just barrel down the isle and go positively **zooming** on her way. In fact, I half expected the boyfriend to be all “Hey asshole, move your giant butt and let the woman through” (you know, to me, not to the old woman). He was apparently too intent on finding just the right hair gel though. Luckily for me. Not so lucky for Grandma Moses.

Also? Why she just didn’t pull a U’ey in the isle? I have no idea. Again: whatever, because soon enough I hear her kick it into turbo once again and **zoom** away. Seriously.

Listen up old people – I’m not sure what game you’re playing at out there – but apparently it’s working cuz I’m so mad I’m blogging about it. So you win for now. For now.

Old people:2 Me: 0