First of all, I admit that I am like many other full time residents who suffer a love/hate relationship with “The Season”. We love to see our friends return to the Island for what seems a few short months. We love to see our local businesses receive a boost, and there’s something energizing about beaches and sidewalks full of walkers strutting their stuff early in the morning. It’s great to live in a place where it’s vacation time all the time and the sun sets only when you let it.
This afternoon I stopped to fill my car at the local gas station. I had to pull my car forward a bit, in order to be able to open the door, as the tank is on the driver’s side. Although what I fondly call “My fake hip” doesn’t impede my movements a lot, I do need sufficient space to turn when getting out of a car. As I was in the process of filling the tank, a nondescript SUV (there are so many that look alike), of a color I can only describe as taupe, edged forward – perpendicular to my car and tried to squeeze between me and a hedge, with no luck.
“Move your car,” the driver yelled.
That woke me from my gas-induced reverie, and I replied that I was in the middle of filling up and could he please wait a minute. From the meter I figured I still had three to four gallons to go. As I finished the job and was replacing the cap, I wondered what kind of driver would expect me to quit pumping gas, get in the car and move it, then return to the pump and finish. Would he have done it? My car holds only 15 gallons when empty so you can imagine the entire process does not take long at all.
I soon found out what kind of driver he was, when his passenger, a reddish-blonde haired woman in her sixties, I would estimate, put down her window and literally screamed at me, calling me an inconsiderate bleep bleep bleep.
To say I was gabberflasted is an understatement, and the look on the face of the gas station employee matched mine. Fortunately the SUV sped off into traffic, or the exact make of car and number of that out-of-state license plate would appear here also.
February is traditionally ‘Heart Month’. Most of us try to have a heart when it comes to making our winter residents feel at home, but it’s not a one-way street. I know these people are not typical of visitors and residents, and I only hope they read this and possibly question themselves about their attitudes and actions. No one, either resident or guest, should ever be in such a hurry that he vocally pollutes our Paradise.