The Campaign For DA


My Beaten Down Life

So I walk out of the grocery store a second ago only to find a Suburban parked to my left. The rear door of that big rig on my driver's side was open with The Mom of said Suburban sticking her head into it. I could hear her talking to what seemed to be a child as she blocked my path to my front door, so I walked around to my passenger side, dumped my bag full of frozen food into it, and then walked around the front of my car to my driver's side door.

A slight pain, but no biggee.

So I get in and notice that the lady is still back there. Although I probably could have carefully backed out, I didn't feel comfortable doing so. Just the thought of some child barrelling out of the Suburban into my path was enough for me to be patient. One minute passes as I look into my driver's side rear view mirror. Maybe two. Sheesh. Come on lady, get after it.

Then I finally see The Mom get through with whatever in the heck she was doing and back away - only to then see a little six year oldish girl pop out of the open rear door and run to the front passenger door. Unfortunately for me, that front door that the little girl was to enter was closed. The obvious was coming. Before I could utter to myself, "Oh noooooooooooo", I heard the "BAM" of her throwing open the door (with the strength of Xena the Warrior Princess, I might add) as it to came crashing against the side of my family wagon - the product of a failed marriage of long ago, but I digress.

As I sit there shaking my head, The Mom adds insult to injury by leaving her shopping cart against my front fender. Certainly she, who could have afforded to lose a few pounds, didn't need the exercise of taking the cart the thirty feet to its proper recepticle.

Cue the "Curb Your Enthusiasm" music.