Trader Joe's on Thanksgiving

I'm at the point in my Los Angeles existence where I'm not surprised when I get cussed out in the Trader Joe's parking lot. Indeed, being verbally assaulted, or almost run over, is par for the course at Trader Joes, especially if the swearing hipster has a "Let's Give Peace a Chance" bumper sticker on the back of her Passat.

You know how it goes, the person cusses you out because you're trying to walk across the parking lot to the store entrance. That means they can't zoom into a parking spot and then someone else steals the spot... so they yell out the window at you, "Walk faster, you f******* b****!"

Yeah, that sort of thing.

How could the driver possibly understand that I was feeling fly this afternoon? I had on my red coat and dark wash skinny jeans tucked into my black boots! Yes, I was workin' it a little more than usual while walking from my car, but honey, the hotness was justifying it.

I mean, it's the day before Thanksgiving! I have my health, my family, a safe place to live, clean drinking water, money to buy food and some fly black boots. I haven't lost anyone in Mumbai, India. I am HIV negative...

Really, Miss Passat is mad, why? Because I'm walking too slowly across a parking lot?

A part of me wished I could grab a jar of vaseline out of my bag and smear up my cheeks. She made me want to hand my earrings to the tatted-up guy standing outside, yapping on his cell phone and puffing on a cancer stick.

Of course, I didn't. Instead I went ahead and went inside to buy the fizzy pink lemonade I'd forgotten to buy when I was there on Saturday. It's gonna go great with tomorrow's big dinner.

Speaking of which, my seven year-old son just came up and said, "Tomorrow is the day we celebrate the Pilgrims betraying the friendship of the Native Americans and then massacring them, right?"

He just leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me he loves me. See, that's what keeps me from acting a fool in public!