- Jan 3, 2001
- 41,920
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I left work to go grab some food, and it's nice out, so I put the top down on my car. I pulled out of our parking lot, took a left, and immediately pulled up to a stoplight. An apparent reader of "How To Look Like A Douche in 30 Days" pulled up behind me (rather quickly) on a black custom bike. This is a very close approximation to the rider...shirtless vest and all:
The light turned green, but apparently I didn't react to the light fast enough for his liking, because he yelled "The F***ING LIGHT IS GREEN YOU F***ING F***!" The natural instinct...of course...is the classic flip-off as you're pulling away, but I forgot the top was down and he started following me.
Crap.
As I approach the next light, he pulls up next to me and starts using F-bombs again. The tapestry of curses he wove was actually pretty impressive. He moulded simple 4 letter words into nouns, adjectives, verbs, pronouns, dangling participles...I think he even formed one into a diphthong. As his tirade came to an end, he stuck he chest out and leaned in...seemingly to provide reinforcement to his statement.
The only response I could think of unconsciously left my lips: "All I can say is it's an honor to get driving tips from a member of the Village People."
He thought for a minute (it looked painful), then started to say something, but only got 1/3 of a syllable out...I'm fairly confident it started with and "F". In a lower, more determined Batman-esque voice, he replies: "If you're such a man, meet me in that Best Buy parking lot over there."
The light turned green, and I just shook my head and left (in a timely manner this time). I guess I'm not a man because I didn't meet him there, but hopefully this motorcycle enthusiast uses this experience to reevaluate his wardrobe. I'm also going to start wearing mittens while driving so people think I'm waving when I get yelled at.
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The light turned green, but apparently I didn't react to the light fast enough for his liking, because he yelled "The F***ING LIGHT IS GREEN YOU F***ING F***!" The natural instinct...of course...is the classic flip-off as you're pulling away, but I forgot the top was down and he started following me.
Crap.
As I approach the next light, he pulls up next to me and starts using F-bombs again. The tapestry of curses he wove was actually pretty impressive. He moulded simple 4 letter words into nouns, adjectives, verbs, pronouns, dangling participles...I think he even formed one into a diphthong. As his tirade came to an end, he stuck he chest out and leaned in...seemingly to provide reinforcement to his statement.
The only response I could think of unconsciously left my lips: "All I can say is it's an honor to get driving tips from a member of the Village People."
He thought for a minute (it looked painful), then started to say something, but only got 1/3 of a syllable out...I'm fairly confident it started with and "F". In a lower, more determined Batman-esque voice, he replies: "If you're such a man, meet me in that Best Buy parking lot over there."
The light turned green, and I just shook my head and left (in a timely manner this time). I guess I'm not a man because I didn't meet him there, but hopefully this motorcycle enthusiast uses this experience to reevaluate his wardrobe. I'm also going to start wearing mittens while driving so people think I'm waving when I get yelled at.
</blog>
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