Yesterday was our "free" day. Nobody had to go to work (shocker), there wasn't anything on the agenda for the day. We were free to do whatever we wanted. If Brad had his way we never would've seen the outside of the front door. I, however, had other plans. Josh needed a haircut, plus, he only had like 3 long sleeve shirts, so I wanted to shop around for a few more of those for him to wear.
We headed out for the Hair Cuttery in Old Town Fairfax, where I generally like the ladies and they have yet to botch Josh's haircut. We didn't even make it in the door when drama ensued. Apparently, sometime between when Brad got out of the car, and when he walked to the curb, he spit on the ground. I don't know if he got rain in his mouth as it splashed off a car, or if a bug flew in, or any number of other reasons one might feel the need to spit, but he did it nonetheless. It was not a lugie, nor was it gum or some other form of litter, just plain old spit.
Why, you may be asking, are you blogging about spit? Well, it's not in my normal repertoire, but this pissed me off, so here's the reason.
As we step up on the curb to head in to the store, a lady across the parking lot starts yelling something we can't quite understand. Everyone on the sidewalk stops and looks at her, and then turns back to what they were doing. This doesn't faze her and she continues to yell - now saying "you, hey you, yes you." I still don't get that she's talking to us, but as she comes close she starts speaking words that make some sense. "You can't just spit on the ground like that!" I said "what?" She goes on with "he just spit on the ground - that's how tuberculosis is spread you know!" I nearly laughed out loud. Not because I didn't believe her, but because she chose a random individual in a parking lot to yell at about the spread of disease because he spit on the ground for reasons she didn't know. She continues to lecture with "this isn't' a 3rd world country you know, you can't just go around spitting on the ground." I had to interject before I smacked her right upside her ridiculous head. "That's all fine and dandy, but this isn't a 3rd world country, and nobody here is spreading tuberculosis." She says "well how do you know." Again, I almost laughed in her face. "Well, he is my husband, and I'm acutely aware of the status of his health." She continues on with some nonsense about how she's a physician (beware of this crazy lady - very short brown hair, with no style to it whatsoever) and is certain that people are getting tuberculosis from spit on pavement all across the US. I noted that I was also a health care professional and that I was not the least bit worried about people spitting on pavement (good lord, what would she do if she ever set foot in WV where folks are spitting their chew on the pavement - or lack thereof - left and right). Brad, at this point, is sensing that I'm on the verge of doing something he might regret, so he goes for the diplomatic approach with, "ok, you've made your point - move on." (this to her, in an attempt to get us both to shut up undoubtedly).
We ended up leaving the Hair Cuttery immediately because it was apparent that there was a significant wait, and frankly I could not stomach the thought of having to sit there in the store with that crazy lady another second. We went to Old Navy (which sometimes makes me think I'm in a 3rd world country), then to California Tortilla (where I was disappointed, yet again, with my meal), and then back to Hair Cuttery (where we were the only people in the store and it was quiet and pleasant).