You better watch your….ass?

So dad ran some errands last night. A few hours into them I called his cell to see how he was fairing and when he expected to be done. Here’s how the call went…

Me: Hey dad, just wanted to see how things were going, have you made it to Wal-Mart yet?

Dad: Actually, I’m leaving Wal-Mart now.

Me: Oh, you got your shopping done already?

Dad (sounding a little irritated): No

Me: Ut-oh, what happened?

Dad: Well, I got here and of course there were no parking spaces in front so I circled the lot a few times and waited for one to open up.

Let me stop the story here for those of you who are new here and don’t know my dad. My dad is a high functioning paraplegic. He can walk (hence the “high functioning” part) but uses two canes. He compares his gait to that of “a poor Charlie Chaplin impression”. Anyway, back to the story.

Dad: A lady started to pull out of one of the handicap spots so I hung my handicapped decal from the rear view and turned on my signal. As soon as the lady gets her car out of the spot a woman in another car comes flying into it. That woman stole my spot!

Me: Dad, you had your signal on, you were waiting and the decal was up, yes?

Dad: Yes

Me (getting irate because I don‘t like people screwing with my dad): Did you wait for her to get out of the car, then tell her to move her shit or you’d have it towed!

Dad: Aza! Of course I didn’t do that! Don’t judge me by your standards!

Me (feeling completely admonished): Well dad I’m just saying you were there first and now you're upset because you can’t find a space up front and you can’t walk the half mile from the outer section of the parking lot.

Dad: No, it’s fine. I’ll just come back later tonight when things slow down a bit.

Me: I didn’t mean to get foul, I just can’t stand hearing things like that. It’s rude.

Dad: No, no I understand. I’m sure it happened for a reason. Maybe she needed the spot more than me.

Me: Yeah, I guess

Dad: And if she doesn’t….I hope she gets diarrhea in the middle of Wal-Mart!

Me (laughing uncontrollably): So I can’t tell people to get their ass out of my parking space when I’ve been waiting but you can wish diarrhea on them?

Dad: Yeah, the explosive kind. Okay, I’m on the main road now, you need anything from the convenience store? Can I get you a Sprite?

Me (still laughing): Yeah, dad a Sprite would be good.

So the moral of the story? The next time you jap some poor old disabled man or woman out of their parking spot and you feel a grumble in the pit of your gut, you’ve just had diarrhea wished on you. And you deserve it!