So, recently, I was out shoe shopping, and, what normally is a decent experience for me turned into something extremely annoying.
It so happens that I picked a bad time to shop, because every girl in the region was shopping for Graduation shoes. This got my annoyance meter running, because teenage girls are very loud, they walk right in front of you when you are trying to browse, and they leave crap all over the place. This was not the ultimate highlight of my annoyance, however.
Enter a Family of three: a grandma, a daughter, a granddaughter.
Grandma is moving through the rows with her shopping cart, b-tching the entire time that she can't find her size and that there are no good shoe choices. Grandma is perhaps in her 60's, so she's not ancient and walker-bound. Thus, I feel no guilt in complaining about her. She is mindlessly wandering ahead of the other two, and thus, a lot of yelling commences.
:"MOM, WHAT ABOUT THESE?!"
"I TOLD YOU I DON'T WANT ANYTHING WITH FLOWERS, DAMMIT!"
"HOW 'BOUT THESE?"
"I HATE RED SHOES!"
As I am trying to concentrate on my shoe agenda, I hear a loud shoe clomping noise to my right. It's the daughter. Now, I had assumed that her shoes were clomping because she was trying them on and seeing how they fit. They were very high, leather, closed toe wedges. Pretty, but appropriate for work or perhaps going-out attire. Not appropriate for short jean shorts, very white legs, and a tee shirt. I'm sure she doesn't see me eyeing her getup, because she is now yelling to Grandma that she has found the perfect shoe and would find Grandma's size.
It seemed that everywhere I went, Clomping Suzy would follow. It was with some slight horror that I discovered that these shoes on her feet were not being "test run", they were, in fact, her own shoes. Clomp, clomp, clomp, and I'm thinking, "what the hell made you think those were the right shoes to pick for today? And if you're gonna wear them, learn to %#@$@^& walk in them!!"
Anyway, I digressed there. As my clomping friend is finding more perfect shoes for Grumpy Grandma, the two of them are yelling at Granddaughter and telling her to keep up with the pack. Granddaughter is sitting on the floor in the middle of one of the aisles, doing I don't know what. This is a 10-12 year old girl, mind, not a 4 year old. And the aisles are small and difficult to navigate. People are having to nearly climb over her.
Granddaughter now starts yelling across the store and complaining.
"GRANDMA, HOW COME YOU DON'T LIKE THESE? THESE ARE GOOD ONES! LOOK AT THESE!"
Grandma is like, 50 aisles away. So, I've had enough of this yelling, and I give a Glare of Death to Granddaughter. A real scorcher. Granddaughter saunters over to my row, pauses behind me, burps, and then skips along her merry way. I shake my head, chuckle sarcastically and say, "Nice."
Now, I know. I shouldn't expect much from a girl who has Grumpy Grandma and inappropriately garbed Clomping Suzy for a sister (or mother? I don't know), but for Pete's sake. It's really quite sad, because, looking at this trio, you know that there will only be more generations to follow, all yelling across aisles in stores, wearing bad shoes, and thinking burping in public is appropriate.
While you have heard me speak of how Mothers get blamed for ridiculous child behavior, this is one case in which I'd have to agree. B-tching and yelling begets clomping and yelling begets burping and yelling. What's next? Public pooping and yelling?
Remember, folks, lead by example. Good example. Otherwise, you and yours will suffer the Glare.
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