Pay No Attention To The Cranky Old Woman Typing This

I spent most of today at the biggest flea market I’ve ever gone to! We got there in the middle of the afternoon, so it didn’t matter which direction to turn once inside. (Ordinarily, if something big is just starting, it’s best to turn left, not right; most of the crowd will go right. I learned this at Disney World.)

Much of the day was spent trying to keep out of the way of morons people who brought their dogs to this extremely crowded place. I guess the “No Dogs Allowed” rule is negated if the dog is wearing clothes and swaddled in a baby blanket, or, even more idiotic riding in a stroller. What kind of person brings an animal to a place that’s already packed solid with people? Dogs are fine in their place, but their place is NOT IN A PUBLIC PLACE THAT IS FULL OF PEOPLE.

How insensitively rude. My allergies are really kicking me tonight. Plus, I’m sorry for the poor dogs. I like dogs, but dogs are not people. Neither are they ugly furry babies to be dressed in expensive clothes and jewels. They are animals, and they deserve respect.


Dogs. In bonnets and baby clothes. Wrapped in blankets. Sitting in strollers. I guess at home, they have their own place at the dining room table. Hopefully, they have their own dishes.

Nothing says fun like walking behind a couple of blue-haired old women who are pushing a dog in a stroller and parking it in the middle of a crowded aisle while they check out the Pet Bling booth for jeweled tiaras and boas. For a dog. A dog who has to poop and does, right there in the aisle. A dog, in a stroller, dressed like a hooker: boa, crown, and little sequined jumper dress.

Poor dog. How unnatural.

Between trying to avoid the dogs, and all the fat people in immensely large wheelchairs (who walked just fine when they were in the food court) blocking entire aisles and backing the crowds up hundreds deep, it took a while to navigate the entire thing.

Please forgive my politically incorrect stance. I know that consideration for the majority isn’t cool these days. After today, I don’t have much consideration left for anybody. Maybe tomorrow I’ll remember to be kinder.

Nah.

There are times when I would be more comfortable in a wheelchair, (Jerry’s Kid, remember?) but I would NEVER go to a crowded flea market or mall in one, and cause inconvenience to others. As for people who dress dogs like fairy princesses and bring them along wherever they go. . . .well, it would be funny if it wasn’t for the smell and the rudeness of the owners. And maybe the looks on their faces, and their tones of voice when talking to and about their pweshus itty babies animal.

There were about a zillion small children who were in hell throughout the whole market, yet were dragged along by their parents who were determined to have a good time, by golly. Poor kids, what a horrible day for them. What were their parents THINKING?

They were thinking along the lines of, “I’m on vacation and I paid to come here and we’re staying for the duration so shut up, kids, it’s all about MEEEEEEEE.”

Here, kid, have a hot dog and some ice cream and a snow cone and a gigantic purple-smelling sticky drink of some kind and eat it all while walking along so you can drool and drop stuff on the merchandise. Besides, the tables, chairs, and benches are all full of old men, waiting.

Jeepers, have we all lost our minds? There are places that are not appropriate for dogs and small children and anyone who blocks an entire aisle, not even leaving squeeze-space on either side. Or maybe I’m just overly tired and cranky.

Or, perhaps. . . . . both.

Don’t forget “mean.”


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