I Swear It’s The Truth Anymore

I pulled into a Quickie Mart type joint yesterday on my way to work and saw some guy trying to back out of a parking spot in front of the joint. Another rig was pulling around the corner of the building and wanted to pull into another spot. Instead of waiting for the guy to get backed out and get gone like I did, this other rig made him stop after he was all the way out and trying to drive off by driving around him. I thought sure I was going to see the two of them tangle fenders.

The first guy saw the jackass and stopped, the jackass whipped around him into a parking spot just a few feet in front of me. The first guy is shaking his head as he pulls away, I am shaking my head at the jackass too.

I pull in the spot the first guy left and look over. Here is a fat old Mommy type in the passenger seat and something that looked almost exactly like that picture jumps out of the drivers seat.

I swear to God that kid looked like he was twelve years old.

She acted like nothing just happened and off they go to get a half rack of Mt. Dew and some other garbage.

I’d have lit that kid up if he was mine.

As it is, it was a very good reminder that these types are out there on the road, joining the multitudes of the other stupid motherfuckers one has to deal with every fucking day.

4 thoughts on “I Swear It’s The Truth Anymore

  1. The complete lack of consideration drivers give those who share the road is off the charts these days.
    Tell ya somethng else I notice here in Cincy – about 90% of the drivers I see close enough to me are driving with hands at 10-2. Young, old don’t matter. I haven’t done that since I was in high school drivers ed about 50 years ago.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That type of bullshit is pretty common here in central calif. I drove from here to NC and back last october and saw pretty much the same bullshit everywhere i went. People are just too entitled these days to do some common fucking courtesy by just waiting a few seconds.

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  3. The up side of working from home for the last year is not spending 2 hours a day driving. I could and probably should write a book about all the crazy crap I’ve seen on the road in almost 40 years of driving to work. The story of the propane tank on the bridge was pretty amazing. I will say this, when you suddenly run over a propane tank on a bridge over a lake and are dragging it at 60 mph because it got deflected under the skid plate and is dragging sparks, people will give a little room. If not for the full ARB Safari style front end and skid plates my vehicle would have been totaled. As it was it was just a paint touch up. It was a few days before I stopped seeing a propane tank flying straight at me all the time. To this day i don’t know where it came from. It was suddenly air borne right in front of me in the dark. I guess it was empty because there was no kaboom!

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  4. This is why I keep a small pair of diagonal cutters in the car along with the other repair tools.

    For Mr. Walker, it’s simply a pause to tie his shoelaces on the way through the parking lot.

    For Mr. Wheeler, changing a couple of tires which are suddenly without a chunk of rubber from the business end of their valve stems gives a body plenty of time to contemplate the magnitude of their error, and nobody contemplates the need for two spare tires, so it also has the side benefit of taking them off the road for longer than it takes Officer Friendly to write them a ticket. The cost is about the same as the fine, in any event, so I figure I’m saving lives unmet by such jackasses, unclogging the traffic courts and emergency rooms, and stimulating the economy at the tire store and the towing company, who are generally salt-of-the-earth hard-working folks. So full of win. 😉

    When I was younger and friskier, after one young jackass tailgated me even at 15 over the limit, cut me off serially, and nearly hit me three times in the space of two blocks, only to dash in the employee entrance apparently late to his shift slinging plates at the local yuppie eatery, I may or may not have also left him a courteous “Slow Down!” suggestion note on his hood afterwards, in mustard, in two foot tall letters, to help explain his new predicament. Which I hope he found after his shift, long after everything else in town was closed for the night, after spending more on repair work than he earned in tips. It may even have been a readable reminder long after it was washed off. Who can say?

    He may even have learned the unappreciated value of being on time for work, instead of driving like a fucking lunatic. Maybe.

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