The Condition of a Man

After enjoying a good romance novel at Hastings, Bill and I set out for our car. As we were walking across the parking lot, I noticed a car full of stuff with just a little area in the windshield left clear for the driver to peer out of. I thought with some humor that another college student was transporting his entire dorm room in one trip. As we got closer to the car, I started thinking "this is odd". Then I realized the car was full of Wal-mart sacks and trashbags. Finally I was close enough to peer through the glass of the window and confirm that the car was filled from floor to ceiling with trash and that the trash was infested with roaches. Every square inch of the car was stuffed with rotting garbage. Live roaches crawled along the windows like ants in an ant farm.

"Oh my God, what is that!?"
"Who would drive this car?"
"He must be mentally ill!"
"Look at all the ROACHES!!"
"Oh God, think how it smells!"

Bill and I could barely grasp the horror of the situation. We got in our car and watched as other people came out of the store, noticed the crammed vehicle and looked again only to be horrified by the filth. I convinced Bill to drive to a parking space where we could get a better view. Finally, the owner came to his vehicle. He had shaggy gray hair and a faded red, stretched, hole-filled shirt. He closed his car door and drove off.

I was so appalled I wanted to cry and throw up at the same time.