Me being completely honest:

It's a known fact, regarding Jamin and I, that we tend to attract the weirdos. Just skim the blogs, old and new, and you'll see what I'm talking about. Socially retarded people are just a part of our lives. We've been forced to de-friend a few, due to inappropriate, maniacal behavior, etc. (If you're rolling your eyes, remember you've done it too, you're just too censored to admit it-line=drawn somewhere. If you're laughing, thank you for knowing what I am talking about.) It's something I've become quite accustomed to. Perhaps this is why I bite my lip on a regular basis. Perhaps it's just because I'm a gutless wimp. I'm a southern girl and I've been taught to be polite, even to the point of being taken advantage of. And many people, even some I trusted, have done just that.

My friends who truly know me, tell me I'm too nice...

So, after the two posts below that I have written, (And even some would-be additions I am not at liberty to expound upon due to the fact that a couple of psychos will probably find this...hey they have in the past...) I have decided I can only take so much of the lip biting. You could say the unwanted opinions from people I could care less about just built up inside. Which is a good preface for the following mini story, which I feel is merely symbolic of what I have needed to do in the last TWELVE instances I have experienced the outright ridiculous:

Valentines day. My parents (insert awesomeness here) volunteered to come keep the kiddies so Jamin and I would actually go out on a date Saturday night. Fabulous. I wore a cute dress, we even had a couple of adult conversations. Never. Happens. Anymore. 

I get really nervous, for some reason, when Jamin parks in fire lanes to run in somewhere, leaving me in the car. Maybe its because I, of all people, the paranoid rule follower am traditionally busted by the power tripping rent-a-cop. Yeah. Always happens. Never fails. Just like the lady telling me Chloe was fat (see below) I am left feeling parking-choice-shamed. 

So, when Jamin pulled up to the curb behind two other cars at the movie theatre to score some early tickets, I felt a little anxious and asked him to leave his keys, just in case. "Ashley. You're not going to get in trouble," were his famous last words as he closed the door and jogged up the stairs. (Picture cocky Jamin smirk.)

It was almost immediately that the golf cart pulled up to the cars in front of me with flashing lights. Despite the fact that it was still light out. I guess rent-a-cop felt the need to insert his extreme non importance as he quietly instructed the cars in front of me to keep moving. I could tell he was on a power trip, as he waved his arms in the air dramatically (matching flashing lights and uniform) while they passed. Then I saw him point to my car, where he could clearly see me sitting, and then yell to the crowd in front of us. 

"There is a Nissan Quest that I need moved RIGHT NOW!" he word vomited into the crowd. As if I were blocking the American Embassy in Iraq and he feared I was an impending bomb threat. 

I hastily opened the door while the man continued to scream. The crowd of fifty something people staring confusedly at me. 

"Oh no he Di'int!" The girl standing beside my car stated empathetically as I clambered out of the car. Bitter rental cop totally saw me. There was no need to make a scene.

"Seriously!" I laughed back. 

"DUDE!" I screamed, now addressing rental cop, as I crossed the front of the vehicle in front of everyone's stares to take my position on the driver's side. 

"Chill out! I'm moving my Caaaaaaarrrrr!" {Emphasis on the word caaaaaaarrrr as I leaned toward him to close in the good twenty foot gap, making sure he heard, loud and clear.}

With that, I climbed in and moved, nearly side swiping him and his anti Iraqi caution cones while I perused the parking lot waiting on Jamin. 

Take that, parking nazi. Take that.