Thursday, November 18, 2010

Why I shouldn’t have a license

There are many reasons why I shouldn’t hold a driver’s license. I’m not a big fan of obeying traffic laws. I use the carpool lane when it’s rush hour because I’m impatient and usually late for work. I figure I can fabricate some sort of lie or excuse to justify my reason for being in the lane if I were ever to be pulled over by a cop. I run red lights at late night hours because I don’t want to wait and figure no one is usually around. I only stop at stop signs when I see another car coming; otherwise I usually treat it as a yield sign. So Yes, I’m a bad driver I know this. But here is my asterisk *; I only drive badly when it’s just me in the car. I don’t do this with passengers or when I’m borrowing someone else’s car. So friends don’t worry, your life or car is not in danger. In fact in those circumstances I am extra careful because you must always be better with other peoples’ things, which includes their bodies.
So the other day I was on my way to find a grocery store close to my work. I was waiting at a left run arrow behind a minivan and when the light turned green the van didn’t go. We sat there for a little while not moving, I thought maybe at first the driver was distracted by the pedestrian and was going to wait for them to cross but they can’t cross because our arrow is green. So I gave my horn a quick little honk. I mean I’ve been guilty of not paying attention when a light turned green. I was just giving a courtesy honk. The driver turned the corner and slowly started down the other road. I followed behind the van for awhile thinking that eventually the driver would speed up but they never did. So I got into the next lane over and sped up to the posted limit. If there are 2 lanes I might as well use the one without the slow minivan driver. We drove a few hundred yards in our separate lanes and I don’t know if this driver just snapped and decided I was somehow being obnoxious but I see in my rearview mirror the van start to speed up at a highly accelerated pace. Now I could have just ignored them and let them pass me by and hurry on their way being a jerk but this day I decided to also be a jerk. I blame my genetic tendency for road rage because I can’t even tell you how many times my Dad would chase cars down. One time my sister even followed a guy back to his house to yell at him. I lay on the gas, I decided that I wasn’t going to let this minivan be the only jerk on the road and that I wanted to join the fun too. So here we are on a 2 lane road in a business district going almost 70mph, Yes, I know completely unsafe but I wanted to see how far I could push this guy. We travel on neck and neck when the minivan finally pulls ahead and then cuts me off and starts to break. SERIOUSLY!!! I know I was being a jerk but did they actually want me to rear-end them? It would have been their fault and they would have had to pay the damages. I quickly maneuvered into the other lane they had just left vacant and avoided the accident. As I passed them turning off the road I laid on my horn and pulled out the bird. (Ok, I didn’t really do that but I did think about it. I might think mean thoughts but I don’t always act on them. Geeze people what kind of person do you take me for?)
What’s the point of this story? Well none really except I blame my father for my incidental road rage. After all my parents were my only examples on driving techniques. My Mom told me this story about a guy in a car that had made her mad so she did pull the bird on him and yelled F*CKER out the window. This story makes me laugh because my Mom doesn’t really cuss and imagining her pull this fowl gesture is somehow comforting that my isolated incidents are due to genetic programming rather than personal choices. It’s like those people that go into a blind rage and when they wake up they somehow forget they took a baseball bat to their ex’s car. I hope I don’t ever do something like that or decide to wear an adult diaper and drive half way across the country to confront a cheating boyfriend. But if I did ever snap I’d like to go crazy in a McDonald’s playground and take sanctuary in the ball pit where I could claim it my kingdom and enslave all the children to bring me fries and ice cream.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

It always feels like………somebody’s watching me

Last night I ran to the store around 9pm to get a few items I needed and while I was walking across the front of the store just below the checkout line there was a lady who might have shopped at the “Big and Tall” staring at me as I walked towards her. At first I thought perhaps she was just trying to read the words on my shirt but as I passed by I saw that she had this sort of blank expression which lead me to believe that perhaps mentally she wasn’t all there. I was weaving in and out of the isles trying to figure out where the items were that I needed and out of the corner of my eye I spotted my tall friend also in that same isle. She was looking at the items on the shelf and touching them as if reading them but I don’t think she was paying much attention. So isle after isle this pattern continued. I wasn’t sure what her fascination was with me or why I was the one she chose to follow around the store but I did have this edge of concern creep into the back of my mind. “What if she does something rash? What if she acts out and grabs me thinking I’m someone she knows? What if she tries to hug me and crushes my ribs?” maybe my thoughts were a little ridiculous but I wasn’t too sure about her mental stability. For all I know she could have just escaped from the hospital mental ward down the street and had a need to find a friend. I wasn’t about to stick around and see so I quickly got into the checkout line. As I was standing there I could feel the stare from the girl’s eyes boring into the back of my head. I turned and looked over my left shoulder and there she was with her cart inches away from my leg. I didn’t want to make any sudden movements and frighten the beast to react so I adjusted my position in line to be behind the displays stacked full of magazines and gum. Trying to hide my face I placed all the items on the conveyor belt and waited several minutes before looking around again. When I looked back over the display I noticed that the behemoth had wandered off hopefully to find another friend. As I was waiting in line at the cashiers I noticed that the clerk was coughing and not showing a very enthused attitude about being at work. When it was my turn to be rung through I made the mistake of asking, “Are you sick?” “Well I thought it was just allergies but now I think I’m really sick. See I didn’t get much sleep this week and then on the weekend it was my birthday and I stayed out really late and only slept for like 4hrs and on Sunday I went to the Chargers game and it was my birthday and blah, blah, blah, blah………..” Just sort of nodding and acting interested, “Oh, yeah? Wow? Really?” I was busy scanning the store to make sure I wasn’t going to be followed out. The cashier with her left eye pointed at the wall and me not knowing when she was asking me a direct question because her stare didn’t really indicate if she was looking at me or the display behind me I noticed that she didn’t really care to bag my items. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see that there wasn’t a bagger at the end of her line because her one eye was apparently searching space for satellites. I grabbed my items while simultaneously signing my receipt and darted out the door trying to get out of the freak show grocery store. I made quick pace to my car and threw my stuff in the back seat. When I turned around I almost ran into the 2 story tower of woman that had apparently noticed my exit from the store. “Ok, well I’m going to get in my car now.” “Where are you going Angie? I thought we were friends?” “Well my name’s not Angie and I need to get home now so if you could just step over I’d like to open my door.” She didn’t step over so I started to back up and distance myself from her, after a few paces backwards I didn’t notice the curb for the planter and fell backwards. “C’mon Angie. Let’s go to the park?” Not really wanting to go anywhere with this giant girl, I started grabbing to find a firm hold to push myself up and get up to run. But before I knew it the girl bent forward and grabbed my foot, “Let’s go. Let’s go play at the park.” With every plea she was pulling my leg...........................................just like I’m pulling yours. HA HA! Had you going there for a second didn’t I? Ok with the exception of the incident at the car everything else is true. Apparently after a certain hour the grocery store turns into Ripley’s believe it or not. Guess I’ll keep my shopping hours to daylight. Aaawwwwwooooo! (that’s the howling at the moon I heard on my way home)