Stupid people
I'm sure there are plenty of rants out there about stupid people. Here's another.
I've been exploring a new way home over the past few weeks, and one of the most delightful things about this new route is that it passes right in front a smalltown liquor store. Last night I stopped in a for a bottle of Cuervo. I paid the little Indian-American man behind the counter & left the store as a car full of homeboys (or whatever they prefer to be called) pulled in next to my Pathfinder.
I climbed in the truck, fired her up, and glanced back in preparation for backing out. A young girl was driving the car and she was chatting it up with the two guys in the backseat. The guy on the side closest to my truck had his door hanging open. I could see in my side mirror that if I backed up, my fender flare was going to clip the door.
Now. My truck is the farthest thing from quiet with its medley of whirs, clunks & clicks, so, unless Homey G was deaf, there's no way he couldn't realize the truck was running, and I know they had to have heard it start even if they didn't see me get in.
I sat patiently for a few seconds, waiting for them to unload from the car or shut the door so I could be on my merry way, but, no. They showed no interest in moving or shutting the door. I tried another tack - I turned around and gave them a cold stare, revved the engine slightly, but to no avail. I couldn't figure out if they were just trying to be hardcore or if I actually needed to get out and explain it to them.
I have no tolerance for airs, and if they needed to have it explained, they deserved to have the door ripped off.
So, I threw the gear into reverse & put the Goat in motion. The flare would've indeed clipped the door, but Homey grabbed the handle & pulled it shut quickly when the truck heaved away from the parking block, giving me his best "What the hell are you doing?" look. I slowed my backward movement long enough to glare back, so he got the idea, nonplussed by his do-rag & gold teeth & kept on going.
I don't have a problem with most people, regardless of their race, preferences, attire or political leanings. Well, okay, maybe I am slightly prejudiced based on political leanings, but we all have our flaws.
I just have a problem with stupid, rude people who don't think. And we all know there's a whole lotta stupid out there.
I've been exploring a new way home over the past few weeks, and one of the most delightful things about this new route is that it passes right in front a smalltown liquor store. Last night I stopped in a for a bottle of Cuervo. I paid the little Indian-American man behind the counter & left the store as a car full of homeboys (or whatever they prefer to be called) pulled in next to my Pathfinder.
I climbed in the truck, fired her up, and glanced back in preparation for backing out. A young girl was driving the car and she was chatting it up with the two guys in the backseat. The guy on the side closest to my truck had his door hanging open. I could see in my side mirror that if I backed up, my fender flare was going to clip the door.
Now. My truck is the farthest thing from quiet with its medley of whirs, clunks & clicks, so, unless Homey G was deaf, there's no way he couldn't realize the truck was running, and I know they had to have heard it start even if they didn't see me get in.
I sat patiently for a few seconds, waiting for them to unload from the car or shut the door so I could be on my merry way, but, no. They showed no interest in moving or shutting the door. I tried another tack - I turned around and gave them a cold stare, revved the engine slightly, but to no avail. I couldn't figure out if they were just trying to be hardcore or if I actually needed to get out and explain it to them.
I have no tolerance for airs, and if they needed to have it explained, they deserved to have the door ripped off.
So, I threw the gear into reverse & put the Goat in motion. The flare would've indeed clipped the door, but Homey grabbed the handle & pulled it shut quickly when the truck heaved away from the parking block, giving me his best "What the hell are you doing?" look. I slowed my backward movement long enough to glare back, so he got the idea, nonplussed by his do-rag & gold teeth & kept on going.
I don't have a problem with most people, regardless of their race, preferences, attire or political leanings. Well, okay, maybe I am slightly prejudiced based on political leanings, but we all have our flaws.
I just have a problem with stupid, rude people who don't think. And we all know there's a whole lotta stupid out there.
posted by RCSure | 1:32 PM
1 Comments:
You are my hero, ya know that?
I think we were seperated at birth, like that kid with the 3rd arm. Only your parents must be the true parents. Mine are more like the ones in Raising Arizona.
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