People Watching

This is my week off (I work 7/12 shifts), and I spent the morning debating whether to brave Walmart for groceries or just run up to my local store. The local grocer won.

Now, let me set the scene: I live in a very small tourist town. Think lots of people, limited resources, and even more limited personal space.

So there I am, casually making my rounds through the tiny aisles when—bam!—I get bumped by a buggy. I look up, and the person behind it just stares at me with this full-on deer-in-the-headlights expression. Not a word. Not a sorry. Just… blink blink.

I said, “Excuse me,” and kept moving. But that wasn’t the end of it. Three more times I got cut off, blocked in, or otherwise run over by tourists who looked like they’d mentally checked out somewhere between their hotel room and aisle four. Zombies. Total vacation zombies.

And I can’t help but wonder:

Did this happen the moment they crossed into town?

Did their brains flip into “vacation mode” and never come back?

Are they drunk? Hungover? High? All of the above?

Even the parking lot wasn’t safe. At one point, there were four men yelling back and forth across the lot. Not fighting—just chatting. Loudly. From opposite ends. Standing smack in the middle of the driving lane, while nobody could pull in or out. Why walk to talk when you can yell over SUVs?

And folks… it’s only a few weeks into summer.

Sigh.

From the looks of it, it’s going to be a long one.

On the bright side? I’m definitely going to have some interesting stories to tell.

Off to the beach now for some vitamin D.

Talk again soon,

M