My mom is given to verbal blunders.
At dinner one night, she was describing an encounter she’d had that day at the grocery store. She’d drop a friend off to run inside then parked. She was waiting inside her blue Suburban. The windows were down.
A man pulled into the parking space to her left, opened his car door into her passenger side, shut the door, then walked inside the grocery.
My mom was stunned: he must have noticed the contact with her car, but he pretended as if nothing had happened.
Pretty soon, he reappeared, carrying a bag. He unlocked his car, struck my mom’s Suburban again as he opened the door, and bend down to get inside.
My mother couldn’t stand it.
She leaned across the center console and said, “Excuse me, sir! Do you realize you’ve banged me twice?!!”
Still incensed when she shared the story, she failed to pick up on the humor until after we were wiping tears from our eyes.