My winter pet peeve brings trouble…. and a creepy guy who just wouldn’t go away. Why does this happen to me…

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img_0792Dec. 15, 2016 – West Bend, WI – Just too embarrassing… so I convinced myself I had to share.

There’s a super pet peeve that comes with winter and I still don’t know why it bothers me so much. Wait a minute, yes I do…. it’s because these snowy, dirty ice clumps collect behind my car tires and then normally choose to selectively fall off on my garage floor.

I can’t TELL you how much that just irks me.

So, the other day I went to check on my parents at Cedar Ridge. As I exited my car I saw the aggravating snow clump clutching tight to the area by the wheel well. A couple swift kicks and I conquered it.

Visit the parents, yahdah yahdah, get in the car, run an errand, dart into the grocery quick and then dash back to my car and sure enough – there’s another large clump of dirty snow ice right behind the tire. Are you serious? I didn’t even go that far.

So I make a beeline for it, kick it with my toe. This one chips off. It’s annoying. I blame the frigid temps and maybe some beet juice the city put on the road. I’m working on it, working on it…. telling myself I have better things to do and dang it’s cold, why does this bother me so much….yahdah, yahdah…

Then…. over my shoulder I notice this guy. He’s creepy. Kinda walking in my direction and looking at me.

I figure I’ve probably interviewed him before – even though I totally don’t recognize him.

He’s got the look that I get in Walmart. People look at me and smile. I figure they follow the Insider.

I honestly wish all that recognition happened a little less often… especially when I just want to get out of the store with my tampons and hair color.

I give the ice chunk a back kick with my heel. One last stab.

I look up and the guy is right there. Like right there. It’s a little startling.

“Hi there!” I said.  He says “hi” back. Gruff. Direct.

“Can I help you with something,” I asked, really super friendly… even though he’s totally creeping me out.

“That’s my car,” he said dryly.

Note to self: black cars are very popular in the grocery parking lot.

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