Am I Going to Have to Fight That Lady

Well ya’ll it has been quite the month. I keep starting up posts and getting, like, a paragraph in and then getting distracted by things like life and work and less than exciting things like that.

I had a sort of day off today in that I only had to work a few hours this morning before changing gears and heading to Disney Springs for a photoshoot. The theme of the shoot was “boy Josh sure looks tired.” It ended up being a low-key affair as we got to the location and realized that the Springs weren’t the best location for what we were hoping to accomplish.

Which was fine because it was still a fun afternoon and it was nice to get outside for a bit even though it felt like we were walking on the surface of the sun.

To add insult to injury, I made a poor selection when it came to getting dressed for the shoot. I put on my favorite pair of shorts, knowing that they had a hole in them. It wasn’t a big deal because it was easy to cover up with a shirt. Because they were jeans, I figured they’d stand up to the shoot and the hole wouldn’t be a problem.

By time I got to location, I had made the hole slightly bigger. It was fine. Totally fine. My shirt would cover it.

Except every time I sat down and moved wrong, which was a lot, I made the hole a lot worse.

I was posed so as to avoid showing the ever growing hole on my right side. My boxers were definetly starting to make an unexpected appearance. Thankfully, they were Lion King so it was at least fitting to the environment.

We wrapped up with as few wardrobe malfunctions as possible and carried on with life. We have another shoot coming up on International Drive so I guess it means that it is time for me to buy new shorts.

Funny enough I ended up at Target but mostly because I needed cat food. I had already returned home twice today without it and I figured if I repeated that a third time, they cats would just up and eat me. I wasn’t willing to take that risk.

I spent a great deal of time awkwardly walking around the store attempting to hide the very sizable hole running down the back of my shorts. Well, not really the back. It’s hard to explain. Basically, it was a hole between the back pocket and the front right pocket. That area.

I got some looks.

Things got very interesting as I was trying to leave Target.

I made it out of the story no problem but when I got to my car, there was a cart behind it being unloaded into the car next to mine by two older women. We made full-on eye contact and smiled and I dumped my purchases into my car and got into it.

I assumed they would put two and two together and move their cart so I could pull out.

Nothing.

I turned the car on hoping they’d get the hint.

Nothing.

I put the car in reverse and, using my back-up cam, moved until I was about to hit the cart and stopped.

Nothing.

No reaction what-so-ever.

So I put the car back in park and sat there debating my next move. They were taking their dear sweet time unloading and didn’t seemed bothered that I wanted to leave. After another minute, I lightly tapped my horn to get their attention.

Nothing.

After another minute, I stepped out of the car and very kindly asked if they could move their cart as I was trying to leave.

“CAN YOU JUST WAIT A MINUTE?!” One of them screamed at me.

Game on lady. Game on.

I’ve been up since 6am. I’m very hot. My ass is hanging out of my pants.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get my car out, if you could please just move your cart a bit for me, I don’t want to hit it.”

“YOU NEED TO WAIT YOUR DAMN TURN”

I don’t know what that meant. I don’t know what that meant at all.

So I got back into my car, put it in reverse and took my foot off the break. I had already been close to the cart so I slowly bumped into it almost immediately. They ladies were well out of the way so the cart was my only real victim.

The light tap was enough to let my foes know that my crazy was going to out-crazy their crazy and they finally pulled the cart out of the way, making sure to flip me off in the process. I just smiled and waved.