R E S P E C T

Sometimes I don't know when to keep My. Big. Mouth. Shut.

This is a reoccurring thing for me. It has nothing to do with keeping confidences. That I can do just fine.

I guess, what I mean is not saying anything when I'm mad.

You know how they say count to ten. Well, I have no time for that.

Before I tell you what I did today, I'll paint a bigger picture of myself with an example of this behavior a few years ago.

My husband and I were driving to Sam's. It was your typical Sunday and Mr. Yardbird had been pushing me to get on his Sam's membership.  A membership I didn't end up using for two more years.

He was adamant about it. It just couldn't wait. So off to Sam's we went. I was driving my car and Mr. Yardbird was relaxing in the passenger seat, flipping through my radio stations, which drives me nuts. He finally landed on Aretha Franklin's Respect and I told him to leave it.

And I don't know what came over me but I was singing it and I kind of sat up a little straighter in my seat. I was getting kind of sassy I guess. I don't know, that song will do that to you.

Mr. Yardbird just looked out the window trying his best to ignore me.

I pulled to a four way stop. It was mine turn and just as I was crossing over I noticed that the car to my left didn't look like it was going to stop. And before I could stop myself I pointed my finger, real sassy -like and with the song to back me up I mouthed the words, "You need to stop." But I didn't really just say it plainly, I said it like Aretha would if someone didn't stop at her four way stop.

Oh man.

And just as I finished telling that car it needed to stop. I saw something I had never seen before. The woman, who was driving, leaned forward and........started beating her chest and screaming.

Beating. Her. Chest.

I gulped. My eyes were huge as saucers.

I slowly turned to face forward and I put my weak foot on the accelerator.

What did she do?

She whipped her car around and she started following us. Screaming and yelling....and pointing. Oh, it was very scary.

"What do I do?" I whispered. "What do I do?"

"Oh, had you thought about that?" Mr. Yardbird said flatly. "Did you think that through before you POINTED at her and said stop your car.

I shook my head, "But what now, what do I do now?!" I pleaded.

"You are going to have to get out and fight her." Mr Yardbird said with amusement.

I was not amused.

I couldn't fight her. I couldn't fight anyone. She could have knocked  me to the moon with her pinky. Beat her chest? Who does that?

Instead, I did the only thing I could think of. I circled the parking lot twenty times, until she gave up trying to chase me down. And when I parked, I found a spot a million miles away. And I made Mr. Yardbird wait a good twenty minutes before we ventured out of our parked car.

My Sam's membership? Well I don't think I've ever taken a more terrified picture, which I have to look at every time I hand my membership card to the Sam's door person.

I haven't pointed that pointing finger while driving at anyone since, or any other finger for that matter.

So did I learn my lesson? Almost, but not quite.

I'll post that story tomorrow.