Suburban Jungle

This past Saturday, if you recall, was gorgeous. I woke up early, saw the sunlight streaming in through the curtains and threw the covers back, ready to take on the day. After showering and enjoying some shredded wheat I decided the first order of business would be to clean out my car and take it to the car wash. Notice how I said that all non chalantly, like my car isn't the equivalent of those crazy people who horde newspapers and bottles and stack them from floor to the ceiling in their apartment? That's like me but with my car. And it's not so much newspapers and bottles as it is Dunkin Donuts cups and discarded shoes and jackets.

But you know I firmly believe that if you have a two door car, the back seat is for storage more than for people sitting on, right?

Anyway.

After I had cleaned out my car I had a few bags of trash and boxes to throw out so I made my way over to the dumpster and hurled the first bag in. I immediatly heard a lot of scuffling and scurrying as a SQUIRREL made its precense known. He was trapped in the dumpster. The animal lover in me, who would have felt bad, was completely overwhelmed by the part of me that doesn't want rabies and so I slammed the lid to the dumpster shut and could hear him madly ricocheting off the walls of the dumpster like a pinball. I was afraid if I opened the lid though in his paniced state he would get out and immediatley jump on me and bite my neck since clearly this is what all squirrels do. It didn't matter though since he LEAPT out an unknown hole in the middle of the lid and, as I screamed, hurdled himself past me and onto the fence and quickly scurried away.

This is why I say taking the trash out is Adam's job.

After this bit of excitement I went about my day, getting my car washed, going to Hanover with my friend Jeanne in search of fabric to reupholster a bench with, doing some shoe shopping. The tail end of my errand running extravaganza brought me to a local liquor store to pick up my weekly wine ration. As I pulled into the parking lot a black Range Rover peeled in ENTIRELY too fast for the likes of that tiny parking lot and barreled towards the key front row spot that I was two feet from. I pressed on though and snagged my spot because just because you are bigger than me doesn't mean you have the right of way! I got out of my car and walked towards the door when I heard a really loud crash followed by honking. Turned around, and Miss Thing in the Range Rover had barreled into a Jeep a mere ten feet from my car, a Jeep who was also trying to claim a spot that righty belonged to them.

Sacre Bleu!

This being all the excitement I needed for the day I went back to my apartment and ruminated on lessons learned. All I can come up with is there are rabid assholes everywhere and it's up to you to keep your wits about you whether you're taking out the trash or parking at the liquor store.

Sigh. I remind myself of Aesop.