Two Tales of Antagonism

A common summer tale: It was hot, I was tired and ready to go home, et voila—a parking ticket. It was kindly delivered to my windshield in a fashionable shade of chartreuse, so I returned the favor by coordinating a stamp to go with it. And insulted the tax collector. Hopefully whomever opens the envelopes has a sense of humor, and I won’t find a huge green boot ‘humorously’ jazzing up my car’s outfit.

But in this story I am the antagonizee. The Magic Kingdom was rainy and cool. We were soaked. I staked out a dry spot under an umbrella, one of many in a line of tables deserted in favor of the upcoming parade. Chris went to get us some hot chocolate. I’m leaning against the umbrella when a rather large lady and a somewhat skinny man come and sit down under my umbrella on either side of me. Was this some kind of joke? All the other tables were empty. I mean right next to me—the couple was arguing about his elderly mother going to get ice cream so I turned to find another less bickery umbrella but was trapped between them and a railing. “Maybe she went to the confectionery. Is there another confectionery then the one down the street?” the woman asked her husband. “I don’t know,” he said. I started to climb over her and she leaned toward me. “Do you know?” she asked me. I was so surprised I leaned back and mumbled, “I don’t” and kept squeezing by her, only to hear her say loudly, “Some people are so rude!”