Today is June 25, 2011. It is not a holiday.
My mom and I park at the Jewel-Osco parking lot, which today is being used by people going over to the fair.
Now in my area of Chicagoland, there is a traveling carnival that goes around Markham, Harvey, Munster, and several other small townships, between Illinois and Indiana. I’ve never been past the gate, as this is probably the least safe carnival you can imagine. The Octopus ride has been re-painted, to cover up the bloodstains from a few years ago, when an unfortunate victim was reduced to mush. The Ferris wheel has bright blue lights, replacing the yellow and red lights from 1999. A lot of the small buildings are rickety with shingles that fly off, chipping paint and questionable rides. The tents typically blow aside to form a parallelogram, and the sideshow acts don’t even bother to dress up most of the time. For this they ask for $20 just to get inside the gate. I dare not ask how much the rides or cot-un candy is. (You note my spelling?)
Usually they park the carnival in an unincorporated area of grass, but today they are stationed in the parking lot of the Church of “have an abortion and we will tattle to Satan on you”. Call me crazy, but I think it’s tacky to see Carny workers selling fake cotton candy to children right next to the sign that says “In memory of aborted fetuses” which has a picture of a broken heart and a shaking baby fist. (I really can’t make this up.)
So anyway, Mama and I are parked across the street, at Jewel. Why? Because we need bread, and bread is sold at Jewel, which is a grocery store. Novel concept, ain’t it?
About 6 feet from the car, this surly, fat, smelly, white-haired midget jumps out in front of Mama.
“Where de hell did joo park, meng?”
“Uh… over there. Why?”
“Are joo going to da fair? Joo can’t park here, meng.”
For the record, El Gilipollas here is dressed in a white polo shirt and jeans. There is NO badge to be seen.
“I’m not going to the fair.” Says my mom, getting agitated. “I’m here to buy bread.”
“Joo can’t park here unless joo is going to Jewel, meng. Joo gonna get bread at the fair? Joo can’t get bread at the fair and park here.”
“I’m going to JEWEL.”
“Okay fine meng. You better, cause joo know joo can’t park here if you’re going to da fair. Too many people are using this parking lot trying to get to da fair.”
Mama’s face gets red. “Next time you might wanna wear a badge.”
“I can show joo my badge meng!”
“Why don’tcha wear it then!?”
“I can show joo my badge, meng.”
For the rest of the day, many customers complained that this asshole was only targeting ethnic women. But OH! The little White teenagers who have their party hats on, going to the fair, they’re a-ok in El Gilipollas’s book.
Better yet? El Gilipollas decided to let his filthy, Emo-shit male escort eat a Sloppy Joe over MY MOM’S CAR while a couple of Misfit-shirt-wearing teens blow cigarette smoke at me on the way back.
I glare at the Emo shit, and he just shoots me this look like “TCH Whatever bitch.” And then glares back like my motioning for his ass to MOVE is somehow a “rude gesture”.
Noooooo princess. Trust me. I have a few rude gestures for ya. That ain’t it.
Then comes the point where I wanted to ask my mom to slam on the gas and mow El Gilipollas down like Samurai Mike against a Patriot during the 85-86 NFL season.
“What’s with all the foreigners, meng?”
=_O Foreigners??? FOREIGNERS???!?!?!
BITCH!! MY ASS IS PART NATIVE A-FUCKING-MERICAN!!!
Oh I took GREAT joy in flipping El Gilipollas off. Where the bloody fuck does an asshole who can barely survive the English language like that
a) Get a job from an American company BEFORE me or a chunk of my American-assed friends??
b) Have that job be of some sort of importance ala Parking Lot Guardian and
c) Get to call my BORN AND RAISED AMERICAN ASS foreign?!?
Fuck you very much El Gilipollas! He’s just lucky I don’t waltz up on his ass, plant my foot where the sun don’t shine and say “I’M I-N-S, BITCH!!”