Okay, so here’s the next part of my rant. I took my wife to Aldi’s (you know, one of those cheap discount grocery store that we SSA recipients need to shop at) and of course, all the Somali’s are also shopping there. Now I find that amazingly, especially since there are two, count ’em TWO African markets in the same shopping complex. I’ve never seen any Somali’s using those stores. In fact, I’ve only every seen one couple shop there at all; two 90-year old white couple wearing matching khaki shirts, shorts and pith helmets. But I digress.
Anyway, I told my wife to buy four items and figured it should take no more than ten minutes at the longest, but I turned off the ignition to save gas anyway. It was a hot day, so I rolled down the windows and leaned back to enjoy the cool breeze that was blowing. I closed my eyes and if I did not suffer from Sleep Apnea, I would have dozed off. Suddenly, I was disturbed by some god-awful screeching that seemed to be erupting right by my head. There had to be Somali’s arguing right outside my door! I sat up and looked around, but saw no one near me in the parking lot, yet the screaming continued. Then I glanced at the other end of the shopping center, where there is a Pizza place, and saw two Somali women walking back out to their car…and they were not arguing! Just talking as I noticed they were laughing! It seems like all Somali’s; whether male or female are always yelling at the top of there lungs and I then I realized it wasn’t their fault. After decades of machinegun fire serenading them day and night, all are deaf. They have to yell! That way why, I finally realized, honking your horn at Somali drivers never worked. They aren’t ignoring you, they just can’t hear it. I started to feel guilty about the rough feelings I had been having about these people.
Oh, you want to know how I know that I am observing Somalis? Well, the women wear those head to toe scarf-like things. Nothing like normal, Muslim Buirka’s, they look more like king-sized bed sheets that they have wrapped around themselves. Bad fitting one’s as they seem to block their view, but they are cheap and suddenly I realized why all female Somali drivers don’t seem to know where they are going. How simple, they flat just can’t see through those huge, billowing sheets! Now I feel I must apologize to all those Somali women drivers I have accused of being bad drivers by either mouth or had gestures. Who could expect good driving from a blind, deaf person?
There is yet another way to identify Somalis in traffic. As I sit in my son’s 1992, manual transmission Tracer with all its rust and dents, I which these Somalis drive by in their brand new SUV’s or Family sized Mini-vans. All their vehicles have to be large to accommodate about 3,000 passengers, because they all live, travel and shop together. I can tell they are Somalis since there are always a few women wearing their bed spreads, but the other tip-off is they are all talking…make that screaming on their cell-phones. Now I know they can’t be talking to anyone back in Somalia, talk about a dead zone, but realize that they can only communicate with each other in the car by cell-phone! Holy Shit! Another excuse for their bad driving!
Over an hour later, my wife storms back to the car. I don’t know which of us is madder. Me, for having to wait so long, or her for why it did take her so long to purchase two items…she was so flustered, she forgot the bread and had a some kind of story about the lunch meat, but I’ll have to divulge those details in my next edition.
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