WILBUR! STFU!

 

I had an epiphany yesterday. It was at the bank. With the economy being what it is, trips to the bank are becoming the central part of my day. Like going to the veggie section of HEB after Trump chased all the Mexicans off. Or hell, SPAM! Did you know SPAM ain’t American? And the hit on SPAM threatens to crash the economy of Hawaii. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the bank.

I was sitting in the car and by and by an Asian couple pulled up. Young comely lass and an older gentleman. He looked like he’d flew one of the planes over Pearl Harbor and she looked like she loved me long time. She dutifully got out, being the driver, went around, opened his door, and began to help the old man out. Now he was about my age, and I remember President Eisenhower, so he was gathering himself a bit. Old people have to locate stuff don’t you know. Walking stick, the bag or backpack, cigarettes (Even though you can’t smoke in the bank) and that deposit stuff she will fill out because he can’t see the form. Glasses. They’re on the dash. See, that way we convince ourselves we don’t really need glasses. He swung his legs around with the usual clipping of the door. We aim our legs, don’t you know and the girl began to help him up. Then he placed his hand on her back with her reaching around to steady him. She was so helpful. He must have a lot of money. But, no matter, she was right there! I’m gonna get me one of them one day, now that all the Mexican chicks all have that Zappata attitude.

Beautiful moment! Did I notice? No! I was too busy sitting there being mad because they were taking too long. And every time Chang would reach around to fetch something off the dash I’d get just a little bit madder. Almost wanting to yell, “There it is!” Having absolutely no idea of what he was reaching for. Meanwhile, Flower Maiden continued to help him until she got him into the bank. She ran back out to the car for one last “something” to which I thought Oh Hell! Forgot his chopsticks! And then it hit me. What business was his business of mine? Ah so!

I had reacted to the scene as if I had a vote. As if he was going into the bank to make a deposit into my account. Like she was one of my ex-wives or something. And she was paying attention to every detail, which further irritated me!  My grandkids would just step over my dead body if I fell on the ground. She was like a Geisha Girl acting as if she were helping him into a bath house. But the Barakah was upon me. And for some reason wisdom filled my brain and I realized that God has showed me that scene for a reason. Let me explain.

Stop and think of all the little things that intrude into your day that have no reason to be there. From a girl at Whataburger who forgot to put pickles on your egg sandwich to constantly telling your driver how to drive. Microanalysis of ever situation because you think you see some flaw that all those people in the room somehow missed. Right on down to fighting the urge to tell some old man how to get out of his car to go into his bank which was none of your business!

To my credit I didn’t try to justify myself. They weren’t blocking traffic. Someone else was taking my deposit in for me, and they were already inside. I was just sitting there smoking a cigarette not minding my own business getting mad at some other old bastard who didn’t care doodly squat about me! So I began to look at my mindset. I was always getting upset because nobody listened to me. I realized that maybe they weren’t listening because I had so much to say. I dominated every conversation. I repeat myself in case they missed it the first time. And I object to everything anyone suggests right up to telling the barista how to mix my Grandé!

Now I’m gonna break this down. I do that a lot. How can this epiphany make my life, and others around me better? I had a vision of Sophie Powers . . . WILBUR! STFU! And more than that stop getting involved. Puck left recently and moved to Detroit. Did I have an opinion? You bet Trump’s latest tariff on it. Can I change it? No! She is eighteen for which there is no known cure. When I was eighteen I was working on my first failed marriage.

So that was the first thing I did. I didn’t send the money to her that I was at the bank to send. Right away I’m ahead of the curve. I resolved to absolutely not get involved in anything that did not affect me like right then! If a car runs a stop sign and is about to hit my side, shout. The driver’s side? Screw it! That’s what insurance is for. You want my opinion, read my stuff. Can’t understand it? Go back to Mexico.

You would be positively amazed how this cleared my slate. Be the old man getting out of that car at the bank. And don’t even insert your ideas into your thought process. I realized that as we pulled out of the bank parking lot and saw his Purple Heart License Plate that he might have been at Pearl Harbor after all. WILBUR! STFU!