Sunday, Bloody Sunday

It started out as a mental response to a post about a bad weekend:

Retail sucks, especially on weekends...

"And Sunday was the perfect situation; I was cool, calm and very fucking angry by the end of it. I was shaking uncontrollably a few minutes after, the pure adrenalin was amazing!" -Queen Corinne 

(And to think that I was once tempted to actually spell her name wrong...on purpose.) 

This reminds me of the Big Sister/Little Sister Rule. The rule clearly states that you do not threaten to touch your big sister’s Harlequin Romance Novels, nor do you ever suggest that any harm will be done to your little sister’s Barbie collection. For whoever is fool enough to break the rule, there is no force above us, nor below, that dare get in the way of that fury's wrath.  

The threat of calling in the help from above, from a senpai? Some people might say that's like a spoiled brat-child calling to mommy to sort out his business.  Naki-mushi?  Personally, I tend to be pretty mellow about these things. On the other hand, my wife has what we politely refer to as just a little bit of a temper problem...but those are other stories.

Threatening to call in help because of something involving a shopping cart...isn't this the kind of stuff that usually happens in gated retirement communities or other institutions? 

One of the first times I can recall someone calling in help from above (in the form of a very big and very scary brother) to sort out a what was becoming a mess, big brother turned around and smacked his brat-kid brother upside the head for being stupid.  Nobody cheered and nobody laughed; everybody got the point.

Reading the Costco vent triggered a memory from the not so distant past in this officially Four-seasoned Land of Harmony.

Once upon a time, there was an older lady who paid for the privilege of double-parking by renting both of the only sheltered parking spots under the building. A luxury she could afford and a luxury she enjoyed on the rare occasion that she actually made it down from the city to relax. Occasions she would thoroughly enjoy those few times each year when she did visit and do whatever she damn well pleased.  

So, when she happened to find a vehicle left in a way that blocked her two precious spots that she hardly ever used to park her luxurious German brand car, the car with the same four lucky numbers, the same four lucky numbers that always parked in her two precious spots, she was, to put it politely, a little irritated.  Just a little.

Some people reflexively grab you by the balls you never realized you had until… you are too afraid to swallow as you pipe out in a high-pitched voice, “Yes, ma’m.”

Okay, so maybe it didn’t quite happen that way. But there were no threats, just two (or was it three?) construction-looking type of vehicles that seemed magically appear behind the offending vehicle the English Gentleman had parked, “Only for a moment, I swear,” whilst intending to unload his boards.  He would have gladly moved his vehicle, had she asked. 

Some people never seem to have to ask...for anything. 

 
And this occasional neighbor who paid for her privileges just happened to be that kind of person who did not seem to ever ask anybody for anything. She was just the kind of person who gave orders and maybe, just maybe, might listen to a plea (like someone asking for leniency when they've kind of made a mistake). 

Well, Mr. Gentleman apparently thought it best to bow and scrape (at least a little) and even offered an unsolicited bouquet of flowers after the disturbance, kind of as a gentlemanly way of smoothing things over. 

Apparently, she accepted.

Mr. Gentleman never said whether or not he heard her actually speak, the older lady who paid for her privilege of parking as she pleased.  And to this day, no one had ever said that they’d seen her smile. Probably because she didn’t have to.

And to think that some people need to make threats, threats to call senpai. 

A mundane life is a good life.

Anyway...