PlatKat.com: The Garlic Offensive

Monday, August 01, 2005

The Garlic Offensive

Yesterday, I decided to attend the Gilroy Garlic Festival, since I really like garlic and had nothing better to do. So, I hopped in the car and headed to Gilroy, which is about an hour away from me, minus the ridiculous festival traffic that made me want to put a gun in my mouth.

When I arrived in Gilroy, I learned I'd be parking in a giant, dusty field and riding a bus up to the park where the festival was. I was expecting this to be an "in-town" event like the arts and crafts dealie I went to on Castro Street (similar to the Pecan Street Festival for the Austinites), and thus, I was overdressed as usual in black capris and leather sandals. I figured I wasn't the only one and made my way toward one of the bus stops on the other side of the dirt road.

As I approached a line, I noticed a young couple and their baby leaving their place at the end of the line. Quickly, I found out why.

"You know, you're being a real jerk."

A woman around 30 years old was scolding her husband, who had his back to me. Perfect.

He muttered something inaudible to which she replied, "I'm not being negative. I'm just making an observation. If you're taking it negatively, that's your problem."

Now I hear people say dumb things frequently, but that was a true model of idiocity. When you call someone a jerk, what do you think is going to happen? Is the recipient of such a grand comment going to reply, "You know something? You're right! I'm being a total ass! Thanks for pointing that out. I'm going to positively change my behavior starting this very minute"? No, he's going to ignore you and keep doing his thing because you've proven yourself to be a socially maladjusted moron who is devoid of any credibility.

To make things even better, they had a little boy (about 7) and a little girl (about 5) scampering around them, antsy as hell and rightfully so. Watching your parents fight at that age has gotta suck.

So of course, the little boy decided he wanted to walk instead of wait for the bus. His dimwit mother had already done enough bitching about how hot it was and how long the bus was taking for the four of them. I guess the kid just wanted to take action. After asking his dad to walk up the hill and being denied with silence (the man obviously feared the psychotic wrath of his wife, dare he offer to take the boy), the boy started walking away. Of course, the mother started screaming at him to come back.

Her husband said something to the effect of, "Don't scream at him."

"I'm not screaming at him!" his wife screamed. "You better go and fetch him. Do you want him to get kidnapped? Do you? Someone's gonna kidnap him!" And the nagging continued.

At this point, the guy is thinking, Why the fuck did I get married? I could be at home watching football with the guys, maybe working in the yard... aw shit, sleeping off a hangover is more fun than putting up with this wicked bitch of the West.

"I don't want to spend 20 minutes waiting for a bus and then 20 more minutes walking up a hill if the bus is coming in 5..." blah blah blah...

The kid eventually came back and started playing in the dirt-ditch along the road. This gave Mom something new to bitch about: her 7-year-old boy was getting dirty.

"I'm a boy," the kid responded. Right on, kiddo.

The woman continued complaining to her husband, as if it was all his fault that her kid was hot and bored as hell. In my experience, if you want someone to back you up, that's not how you ask.

"Those were his shoes for school" was her final argument. Oh, I'm sure Dad really gives a shit now. You bought your kids school shoes in July and they're getting them dirty before August? Well, of course you deserve a free pass to act like a freakin' mental patient. This is important shit right here!

Soon after, a water truck approached. I gathered the purpose of these trucks was to spray water on the ground to keep the area from getting dusty. The woman had mentioned one of the trucks earlier and how all that cold water would feel nice since it was so terribly hot outside. Well, the approaching water truck was ready to answer her prayers.

The truck went by and everyone moved out of the way, except Miss Bitch 2005. Everyone moved, you see, because the water was coming from a huge tank that was feet above our heads. The pressure, nor being wet for the next few hours, seemed appealing to anyone, but the woman was in such a snit, she wasn't thinking about that.

She was obviously more soaked than she had planned to be, and the water shooting out of the tank at that speed seemed to be more of a shocking slap than a cool rinse. Unsure of what to say, she says, "Look at my shoes" which were splattered with mud–an expected result of large amounts of water hitting the ground in a single spray. Her husband got a bit of a laugh out of her stupidity, and of course she defensively replied, "I'm not complaining, I'm just saying..."

You'd think that would have been the proper comeuppance for the irritable festival-goer, but no. Upon recovering from being slapped, soaked, and laughed at, she looks at her son, whose hands were muddy from the water truck.

"Nice job. Your hands are muddy. What are you going to do now? What are you going to do about that..." Bitch bitch bitch.

Honestly, when you become a mother, does every ounce of common sense with regard to comporting yourself in public just get ripped right out of your head?

Condoms, please. I'll share.

posted by platkat @ 12:12 PM