Special

Ok I don't know why this kinda crap always seems to happen to me, but here goes... true story:

Today, the love of my life and I decide to go to the oriental buffet on route 38, perhaps some of you are familiar with the place, maybe not, not important to the story. Sitting at the table behind us is a family of three. A mother and father, elderly, in their late 60's at least, and their daughter. The daughter, who appears to be a rough 40-ish type would fit nicely in my town. She comes complete with tight pink spandex top and no bra. Oh, did I mention the black eye? Anyway, they are ready to leave and they are arguing (the married snow tops) about weather to get the senior citizens discount card the restaurant offers to frequent buyers. It costs 10 bucks and you have to fill out an info paper for the card. The mother, who, by the way, walks not unlike Quasimodo complete with hump, is all for the card. The father, who while almost walks upright, does so while taking little 4 inch steps with his cane propping him up on a pair of legs that would make Barbaro laugh, is against such an idea because he says "I can't wait for all that.". This factualness of this statement becomes abundantly clear in the next few minutes...

While the three of them make their way to the door. Trailer park girl tells Ma and Pa that she will go get the car and bring it to the door for them. Alas, this is the last I will see of them, I think. Upon the families departure of my immediate area, we finish our meal, pay and get ready to go. We walk to the front door and guess who's parked right by the curb just outside the door?

Now here is the scenario, and I will paint it as accurately and vividly as I can. Ma (Hunchy) is already in the back seat on the passenger side which is the side of the car facing us. Pa (Tippy Tippy Pause) is in the process of going from a "catcher behind home plate crouch" to a standing position and is pulling up his pants... "HUH?" I thought... but ok no big deal. Now he starts to make the little baby steps toward the waiting open front passenger side door while the daughter begins to wrap a bath towel around his waist. At this point I stop in the Ves-ti-bule 'cause this is really weird now. (Now?) I begin to scan the area around the car and look towards the back where the old timer was when I first noticed him outside. It is at this point my lovely companion utters the sound "Ugghahhhwahh!?!?" or something like that. At that exact moment I notice the huge pile of shit he left on the sidewalk right in front of the door to the restaurant!

Now, this tells me a few things. First, I hope I never get this old, and second; when he said "I don't have time for this.", he really didn't! But it also tells me he knew he had to go and he passed the bathroom on the way out. Instead he dropped trowel right in front of the friggin' restaurant. Here's where I get to use my masterful power of descriptive story telling. The pile is a nice butterscotch pudding or coffee ice cream shade of light brown. It is so perfectly formed into a little pile of dung that it almost has the fake "Spencers Gifts Joke Pooh" look to it. It even came with the little Hershey Kiss loopy curl at the very top.

I exit the restaurant and make a wide birth around the family and the car. Noticing that there must have been some earlier salvo shots a little further towards the back of the car. These, unlike the formed pile, looked like spin art. We get to my car and get in, buckle our seat belts (click it or ticket) wind the windows down cause my air doesn't work, and start up the car. Meanwhile the entire family is now inside of the car and pulling away from the curb. WAIT!! Did the daughter actually help the father get into the car and then get in as well? Surely she must be going to move the car out of the fire zone and back into a parking space, then go back into the restaurant and at least tell them that there is a huge pile of shit on the sidewalk right in front of the door, right? No, she leaves. To which all the two of us can do is sit in the car and laugh our asses off until we almost got home.