The Pandemic Perils of Missing People We Don’t Even Like

No Lies Radio News – By Becky Garry Yates – May 11, 2020

Each day the list gets longer of all the good things in life we are missing during this quarantine.

We are all missing family and friends we love, coworkers and neighbors we enjoy, but I’m actually starting to miss people I don’t even know or like. Social distancing has made me realize that it is the strangers in my life that have truly molded me into the person I am today. You know, the ones that irritate and annoy you. The ones that try your patience and make you want to scream. The ones that teach you tolerance and acceptance.

For example, because I’m not going to the mall, I miss the two millennials working at the cosmetic counter of a local department store who ignore me because they are too busy taking selfies and talking about how wasted they got at Kimberly’s party the night before and how Josh and Abby broke up because Josh cheated on Abby with Wendy. I miss forgetting to buy my lipstick and mascara because I was too sidetracked wondering why Kimberly even asked that skank Wendy to the party in the first place. I miss not having lipstick and mascara. I miss being ignored by millennials.

Because I haven’t gone anywhere I miss driving and needing to fill up with gas only to find that “Pump Parking Pete” who finished gassing up ten minutes ago has abandoned his car at the pump to go in and buy snacks. I miss waiting five more minutes waiting for him to emerge with his two Big Gulps, two mystery meat burritos and his two bags of pork skins. I miss wondering if he is going to eat all that himself. I miss imagining that he’s brought out the extra food for the hostage he’s kidnapped in his trunk. I miss revving up my engine when he gets in his car trying to prompt him to move so I can move up to the pump. I miss imagining him choking on the mystery meat burrito. I miss wondering how long I’m going to have to wait before I put my car in drive and push him out of the way. I miss estimating the amount of damage I could do to his car without harming the hostage in the trunk. I miss wondering how my mug shot is going to look when I get arrested for damaging his car seeing how I haven’t worn makeup in months because I didn’t get to buy my lipstick and mascara at the cosmetic counter at the mall. I miss being angry at Pete at the gas pump.

Because I can’t get a pedicure, I miss being the brunt of toe jokes when the technician points at my feet and corrals the rest of the staff to come take a “rook. “ I miss watching them bend over in laughter, while I sit wondering what they are saying in their native chatter even though when laughing at my feet they use the English words, “belt sander”and “Sasquatch.” I miss them asking “You want frowah.” I miss trying to explain that “no, I no want frowah!” I miss being held down and forced to have a “frowah.” I miss being held in bondage and paying “tlee”
dollars extra for a “frowah” I didn’t want. I miss being made fun of.

Because I can’t go to a movie I miss being charged $14.00 for admission and after looking at the refreshment prices wondering if they had a layaway plan.
I miss settling in with my $17.00 box of day old popcorn and my $8.00 stale coke only to find that the couple behind me brought their crying baby to an R rated movie.

I miss straining my neck to shush them and giving them the stink eye that they completely ignore.

I miss standing up, putting my hands on my hips and yelling, “Mother of God, if you can buy two giant sodas, two extra large popcorns, two boxes of chocolate almonds, nachos, hotdogs and a box of Raisenets then you can afford a babysitter!”

I miss being escorted out of the theatre before the previews were even through. I miss wondering who buys Raisenets and what they are anyway. I miss being overcharged for a movie I never saw.

Because I can’t go to the park, I miss jogging…well, actually I’ve been missing jogging since 1976, but I do miss the park. I miss sitting on the park bench along the running track watching yoga pant Barbie check her FitBit for the hundredth time to see if she had met her 40,000 step goal. I miss pretending I’m stretching and sticking my leg out and trying to trip her. I miss huffing and puffing like a fat kind running for the ice cream truck in attempt to reach my FitBit goal of 40 steps. I miss finally making it to another park bench and getting to open up my fanny pack of snacks. I miss wondering how many more steps Barbie could take before she was close enough for me to hit her upside the head with my chocolate and caramel and peanut coated, marshmallow filled “energy bar.”
I miss wondering if Barbie had ever had one of those 1,500 calorie “energy bars” of goey goodness. I miss wondering if Barbie had ever eaten, not just an energy bar, but eaten…ever. I miss the park.

Since no one can come to my home I miss the guy that shows up with a rag in one hand and a spray bottle of super duper cleanser in the other that’s so excited about pitching his product that he’s wired like a meth head at a Sudafed convention.

I miss him lying and telling me my neighbor loves this product so much she just bought three cases. I miss shutting the door in his face but not before I allow him to demonstrate by washing all my front windows and not before I tell him, “well good, if she bought three cases if I decide I need any I’ll just borrow one from her.” I miss him leaving my porch while my Nest camera records him calling me a name that rhymed with itch. I miss being cussed out by a stranger at my door.

I miss seeing strangers so much that if a Jehovah Witness showed up, I’m about two sins short of inviting him in, sitting him down, handing him a mask and gloves, spraying him down with Lysol and asking him just what it was that he wanted to tell me…and if he answered, “I don’t know, I’ve never been invited in before,” I’d tell him never mind and send him on his way…but not before I asked him to bow his head and pray that the good Lord forgive us all for the intolerance we show towards strangers everyday and that if anything else, pray that this quarantine has taught us all to be a little kinder and more patient with each other, especially to the ones “we don’t even like or know.”

PS This story is from a facebook friend & re-printed from my personal account on facebook.

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Posted by Teri Perticone


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