M and I went to Ikea today to look for a few things, and after 3 hours wandering the store I am happy to report we are both still among the living, marriage still intact, and bubbling over with ideas and potential storage solutions for the little house (storage building out back) and the garage. We also found a sturdy little cart that will work for our electronics in our room and that seems would work well for that purpose, but after wandering the entire store and on our way out we realized we had no idea where the elusive box was actually located. Yes, we forgot to mark the aisle and section where the carts for purchase was actually kept. Did we want to go back upstairs and seek it out, ask at information, or just go home and figure out whether or not it was The Item and return another day? We opted for leaving, primarily because I was getting hungry and starting to feel the slow and steady blood sugar fade.
There was yelling, and I fear it might have been my fault. Not that I was yelling. We parked way out in the back 40 and were walking through the parking lot to the store. Because we were chatting and parked so far out neither of us was paying a lot of attention to where we were in the parking lot and watching for cars coming and going. I freely admit we were walking side by side and not hugging the parked cars, but we were not so in the middle of the lane that the car that zipped around us and yelling out the window that “you walking in the middle of the f–king road and get the f–k out of the way” could get around us. This is also my hometown, the kind of lower income place where people assume the white trash/trailer trash/poverty stricken/drug addicted folks live (not that I am any of those things, by the way). Yet being spoken “at” so rudely by a passing car caused me to flip them off. Yep, childish me stepped in for an ever-so-brief period before I could restrain myself. M did not hear them, but he did not – could not – miss the uncharacteristic gesture toward some strange car. All this time we are continuing to walk toward the car, and I repeated the vulgarities hurled out at us … which continued as these people stepped out of their vehicle.
M was having none of that, and turned around and stalked right up to this very rude, inconsiderate, and I suspect drunk or high couple. Loud words were exchanged, and where I would have chosen to just ignore them, M does not take that sort of rudeness from anyone. Fortunately the altercation, if an exchange of angry words can be described as an altercation, lasted just a minute or two. Whereas M was angry at them for yelling obscenities at us, the pedestrians, they both chose to do argue their nonsensical point by yelling personal insults that rolled right off us.
It was an unpleasant and ugly scene, one I probably exacerbated by stooping to their level with my vulgar gesture. But oh well. Thankfully about the only reason we head to this community is to visit Ikea a couple of times a year.