Ever recall a situation about to explode in your spirit, and you're powerless to do anything about it?

Women who walk around stores with men who talk to them as if they are property rather than a mate or a friend really yanks my gourd. Let me tell you my story:

A True Story, March 8, 2006.
The Time approximately 10:30 p.m.
The Location: Sam's Palace (i.e. Walmart)

My husband Kenny and I went to Walmart to plot a herbicide. Murdering a plant that uglied up our yard. Erradicating a genus verigatus called Poison Ivy. 

While seeking the most potent ammo in the house and garden section of Walmart, we did our usual exercise walk around the superstore. (It seems to be the only time we get to walk together. That is, until we come to the electronics section.)

It is at that time when we part company and head for parts of the store that pertain more to our liking. For me, that aisle of enchantment was my high school fetish. . . . ugly comfy earth shoes.

(Thought I was gonna say lace panties, didn't some of y'all. . . you know how much those boogers itch between thighs that just experienced a surprise attack hot flash? . . . . Um-hmm, I didn't THINK so!) 

Anywho, I was trying on shoe after shoe, going through the bending and stretching portion of my Walmart workout routine when another woman, probably in her early 20s came around the aisle with an empty cart. She was rather plain (that's not a put down, just a description), probably about a size 20 (the size I used to be prior to my hypothyroidism being diagnosed to partially treat my depression). Her wardrobe was comfy, reminding me of something I owned way back when in the form of a white short sleeve t-shirt and stone washed blue-jean jumper. Her legs were rather short, matching her stature, and she was wearing run down sports shoes and tinged off white ankle socks.

This woman, relaxed at the time of her dream shopping, had hair down to the mid part of her thigh held tautly by a rubber band.  And we looked at shoes, like most women do, remarking candidly about what's cute and what ain't. Then,  he came around the corner.

He was a small man, about the same height as the woman he was homing for, a little taller than her 5'5" frame. (She and I were the same height.)

She looked at him. He looked at her. I tried my best to ignore them both even while there in the aisle because there were some really REALLY weird vibes coming from behind me where they stood. Whispers ensued. . . .

I turn slightly to my side so I can utilize what's left of my periphery from my not-so-clear left eye, no thanks to my floaters.

"Look, aren't these cute?"

He says nothing. His face is expressionless. She continued to gently attempt coax him into purchasing a pair of dressy sandals, probably no more than about 7-8 bucks at most. Finally, he speaks, low and ominous-like:

"You don' need no shoes. Wear the ones ya got!"

Is this dude blind? Does he think he's speaking to his dog? No, that couldn't be the case. The dog probably gets better treatment.

The silent bargaining continues and he finally says, "Put 'em down! Let's go. . .  " then he glares at her. 

Ever sense the way a bad thunderstorm begins? Everything turns really quiet. I had a very sick feeling that once those two left the store, she might be seeking an ice pack. Good God I hope I was wrong. But there are so many abusers out there taking out their anger and frustration from their jobs or lack of;  their ex's, their children. . . like the 9 month old in Del Ray Beach Florida whose 20 year old father who first held his own flesh and blood named CJ out of a moving car because he was mad at the mother accusing her of cheating on him, then threw the baby out of a car at an intersection.

Commence Fairytale, chapter one: But the dad must have been enraged for reasons of which the woman was completely to blame, right? He's just bought an Easter basket for CJ, took him to church, even rode to the clinic when "his baby-mama" called to say that their son had diarrhea. But that was on a Wednesday. CJ's papa was a rollin' stone and he threatened to kill the baby's mother more than once. Even sent his cousins with guns to the girl's home where she lived with the baby and her mother to scare her, not to mention other girls who would go over an threaten to beat the living viscera out of her, as commanded by THEIR man. . . CJ's daddy.

When the 16 year old mother got out of the car, grabbed the baby, he reportedly snatched him from her and slammed his son face first onto the hood of the car. The baby was crying and still alive. A dent from the baby's face was left on the hood of the car when the father had flung the young victim. 

The mother went ballistic. She grabbed her son, put him in the passenger side of the front seat. The car engine was running. Crazed dad jumps in the car, drives off to a canal, throws the baby into the canal face down and leaves him for 20 minutes while going back to get the teen mom, telling her: (paraphrased) She'd better go back after her baby before the alligators get him.(end of paraphrase).

The entire ordeal is insane. This young man had been seeing this girl for 3 years. Do the math. What the heck was the girls mother thinking? She said she couldn't do anything to stop her daughter legally from seeing this man. He had "anger management issues."

Anger management my posterior fat pads! There's not much to say other than the rascal did get arrested, but he showed little remorse.

Congratulations citizens of Florida. Your tax dollars are paying for yet another person who should have been smacked face down on a car hood and tossed to the alligators instead of the baby he killed. Remorse doesn't bring back someone who didn't ask to be born.

Then I thought again about the Walmart woman who, for what ever reason, seemed to bear all the trappings of a copper penny waiting for a freight train to happen in her life. Women, I only have one thing to say: Tell your daughters that Romeo and Prince Charming and the White Knight ain't nothing but a trumped up lie perpetrated by people who created the doll called "Barbie!" No harm to any collector out there, but to me the discrimination, the humiliation, the lack of respect for women who are afraid to stand up for themselves seems to be increasing with this generation.

What happened to all the women of the 60s who didn't take horse spit off of anyone? I remember the women of the civil rights marches being violated, beaten raped and jailed for the cause of freedome and equality. I remember the women in politics like Shirley Chisolm and Barbara Jordan who were not pretty but pretty doggone tough to stand up in the face of racist, male chauvenistic bigots. Why don't we teach about those women anymore? Not just those women of color, but ALL women of ALL colors who stood their ground in the face of someone, being thought of as "less than able."

The woman described in generic terms in Proverbs 31 of the Old Testament was not a wimp. She did it all. She was respected by her mate (husband). She was the butcher the backer the candlestick maker and the securities officer, the real estate giant, the designer fashion creator and "the boss" when the man was gone. Then when they got back together, both her kids and her man knew a good thing when they saw it and protected her from all hurt harm and danger.

All I have to say is this: Mothers Day is coming. I don't think that the days of Mothers and Fathers should be celebrated on one special day. I am all for abolishing days that separate parents, and focus on days and programs that uplift and edify them 365 days a year/24-hrs. 7 days a week!

Men, get a clue. Women, stop being clueless. Your kids are watching, and they learn real fast.

So having said that, hoping that some poor woman who walked with no dignity or pep in her step and pride in her stride didn't get WWF smackdown'd afterwhich her male figure impersonating a respectable man probably went downt the street a few miles for a lap dance from some woman who makes us all look like we wanna be a man's plaything. Such things ought not to be.

This nation needs to protect its families and children who are suffering from the hands of so called well adjusted men who deserved to be thrown under the foundation of the jailhouse. no parole.

So Happy Women's Appreciation Day My Sisters. We all came from somebody's mother. Pray fo all those who are abused and too afraid to break away. May it not be them that ends up in a black eternal sleeping bag with a chalkline for a memoir.
   
For women who really want to know how to break free, but don't know how. . . this may or may not be an option but for God's sake, it's worth them checking out and sharing with non-profit groups to help fund safehouses (www.ytbassociations.com) or just their own business where they have their OWN names on their check that no one can take away.

Team MVP-YTB 24 hour information system.
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If you think this ain't right, try calling the New York Stock Exchange, I know they're real, I'm one of them thar witnesses. We beat the rates, not people.