Help the Aimless!

Help the Aimless!

It started in the Trader Joe’s parking lot. After circling and circling to find a parking space, once we finally snagged one, my husband had to back the car out a bit to straighten it. But he couldn’t. Blocked first by one car and then another. I listened to him spit out in frustration, “The homeless guy picks NOW to decide to start walking?”

After he’d been standing in the little mini-park in the corner of the lot the entire time we were waiting for our chance to move, as soon as our way was clear, he of course started walking. Right behind our car.

“Hmm. He doesn’t look too homeless,” I said. (the nice blazer.)

“Well, then he’s aimless. I hate the aimless.”

“Yes! I don’t like the aimless either.”

“I’m going to start a fund, ‘Help the Aimless!’”

Yes! What a wonderful idea. We all know the aimless. Perhaps we all get annoyed by the aimless. They text and walk, right in front of your car, or maybe into a fountain. They’re at the airport, walking slowly, right in front of you while you’re trying to catch a flight. They’re in the grocery store, clogging an entire aisle, un-realizing that there are other people in the world. They’re the kid at college who can’t decide on a major and it’s their junior year—but no matter, mommy and daddy have money. It’s okay. Aimless-boy can afford to be aimless. Unlike you, who had to choose your major in the sixth grade.

Yes, the aimless are an often over-looked, under-served segment of our society. They need our help. They need direction. Or, at the very least, instruction—on how to get the heck out of the way. Out of the way of people who know where they’re going and how to get there. They’re like that Chuck Berry song, “No Particular Place to Go.” Which is fine. It’s even sort of romantic. But I don’t care how aimlessly romantic you are, if you’re in my husband’s way, I would highly advise you get the hell out of it.

I suppose I should defend my husband a bit here. He was as cranky as I have ever seen him. Ever. He hates shopping. Really, really hates it. I mean, I always knew this, but this was the first time I’d ever seen it get the best of him like this. All this because we’d been to, gulp, two stores in a row.

Regardless, his crankiness led to this wonderful new public service. If you would like to join our new charitity, Help the Aimless, the intention of which is to give direction to the aimless, please feel free to email a PayPal donation—seriously, any amount would be appreciated—to kim(at)kimstrickland.com. Have no doubt, whatever amount you contribute, I will not be aimless in finding places to spend it.

 

Thank you for reading A City Mom! Are you aimless? I can help! But only if you Like me on Facebook here and/or follow me on Twitter @acitymom

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