I'm a Bad Person...Turn Away Now!

I am a bad person.

We aren't talking Hannibal Lecter bad, Michael Vick bad, Mel Gibson bad, or even Tiger Woods bad, yet all the same, my personality suffers a major, embarrassing flaw. A flaw that reared its ragged head once more again today. If you hold me in high esteem I encourage you to turn off your computer now for you will never look at me the same way again. It's like finding out that Pee Wee Herman was a big pervert (yet different...very different) and never being able to enjoy Pee Wee's Playhouse ever again.

You staying? Well then...read on...just don't say I didn't warn you.

On my way home from a stimulating morning teaching summer school math (no, two times seven is NOT nine) my phone buzzed to life with a text message from The Wife. She asked me if I could stop at the Acme on the way and pick up some flour. Since my diabetes diagnosis she has slowly stockpiled a small library of excellent recipes that won't shoot my blood sugar as high as Lindsey Lohan's last Saturday morning drug test. The Wife wanted to make a friendly fruit and cream desert and she needed me to pick up some all-purpose flour. I happily agreed.



I pulled into the parking lot, humming along with the radio, in a fine mood imagining the Splenda laced goodness that was soon to be mine. I killed the engine, hopped out into the beautiful July sunshine, and began the short walk to the front door. That's when I saw him. And the flaw within was revealed.

An octogenarian supermarket panhandler was set up at a little table strategically placed in front of the exit, eliciting money from every soul that exited the store. When I use the term panhandler I do not mean to imply homeless or derelict. No, this was a nicely dressed, clean, elderly dude asking every person who walked out to contribute to his cause. What cause? Beats me...I didn't even look. Nothing tweaks me more than being bothered by people looking for donations when all I am trying to do is get into and out of a store as quickly as possible. I don't care who it is or what they are asking for.

Girl Scouts, local little league, class fundraisers...they all turn me into Ebenezer Scrooge in an instant.

Is it so bad to want to do my shopping in peace and not be given dirty or disappointing looks when I happen to not have any money in my pockets or to not want to part with the paltry sums that might be in there?

I did my shopping, grabbed the flour, a few other items, and checked out. As I approached the automatic sliding doors that marked the exit, I did the deed I am most ashamed of...the one that qualifies me for Santa's naughty list for sure. I walked through the exit door and as I approached the table with the little old man and his bright red bucket, I whipped out my cell phone and began an immediate and hilarious conversation...with myself.

Yes, that's right. I engaged in a completely false conversation with the nothingness on the other end of my unconnected cell phone, complete with a few giggles and one outright guffaw. I maintained this bogus dialogue until I reached my car, where I politely told myself I would catch myself later. Then I fake ended my fake call, started the car, and drove home.

Go ahead...you can say it. I am a bad, bad person.

But at least I'm not Britney Spears bad.