Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Traffic Fireworks


Man, I've actually got a lot of ideas in my head right now. Most of them entertaining, no less! However, I'm kind of tired, seeing as how I just learned how to use a new image processing program because I didn't want to turn on the computer with Photoshop on it, and it took awhile.

Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking. "Why doesn't he want to turn on the other computer? And what's this 'other computer' crap anyway? How many does one man need?"

The answer is four. But I'm allowing you to distract me. I've got a story to tell. I had to choose from all these ideas one to Blog about tonight, and I've chosen one that makes a precedent.

As you can see from the picture, I own a camera.

Wow, that was funny. Let's start over.

As you can see from the picture, I've been watching a fireworks display. Squinting through a little hole on the back of a camera is DEFINITELY the way to watch fireworks, folks. And never mind all this stuff about fast lenses and tripods. Just stand right in the middle of a crowded sidewalk and snap away. Never mind them children either. Just punch 'em and keep squinting.

Naturally, what with all the crowds (newly dented children included) the traffic on the way out of town is a real problem unless you like idling. Most people take this in stride because they've come to expect delays in and around areas where a lot of people have congregated. More people. Same streets. Simple, right?

Not to everyone.

I've heard comedians talk about this situation, but never actually experienced it firsthand. I'll set it up for you: I'm downtown, and I'm on a two lane road with a median and room on the right for parking. One lane per direction, and there's about seven thousand cars all crammed onto this fifty-yard stretch of pavement, with more trickling out of the parking lots lining it. I'm perhaps four feet from the car in front of me, and all I can see through his windshield are more cars. Brake lights as far as the eye can see.

So, time-wasters, what kind of aberration of thought; what mindfart would convince somebody that they could make other cars go away by blowing their horn? That's the best explanation I can come up with for the woman behind me laying on it every couple of minutes. I could see her in my rearview mirror, waving her hands and chewing on her steering wheel.

Okay, I made the chewing part up. I think.

Normally, I'm a very non-confrontational person. I'm pretty tolerant. I'm even nice to telemarketers. But...after the tenth or so time this nutbag honked at me, I couldn't take it any more.

Ripping off my seatbelt and throwing the door wide, I burst from my car. I pointed at the Chrysler behind me and yelled "Is that YOU on the horn?"

Muffled outrage from behind the glass. Gestures. "Want the fork?!" she appeared to be screaming.

I took another couple steps toward her car. I pointed behind myself at the line of cars in front of mine and bellowed "CAAAARS! That's the reason!"

Then I slapped my butt at her and got back in my own car.

I'm not saying that this was the right thing to do, especially since there were two guys in this car with her, but it made me feel better, and it got a laugh from some people in a convertible heading the other way. Besides, all the people I'd been allowing to merge in front of me would have been on MY side. Ha.

I was kind of buzzed for the next few minutes, thanks to the adrenaline I suppose, and I've got a story to tell at work tomorrow. I'm just afraid nobody's going to believe me when I tell them I did that.

Shoulda took pictures...

7 comments:

Stupid Blogger's Wifey said...

My goodness Foo, I didn't know you had it in you. Did you really do that?!

The Stupid Blogger said...

Wow, I'm impressed. I only wish I could have seen it firsthand.

I can believe your story. Easy-going, normally mild-mannered guys can do crazy things, generally made even more crazy by the mere fact that they actually did it. You should get Muppers to tell the story about how I challenged a guy three times my size to a fight in the Pizza Hut parking lot. Yes, we quiet types are secretly vicious.

The Stupid Blogger said...

Oh, and "newly dented children" would be a good premise for a really long Stephen King novel.

Muppers said...

Oh my goodness! I completely forgot about the Pizza Hut incident! That was hilarious. Thanks for reminding me.

FooDaddy's FooDaddy said...

Us quiet types, or we quiet types, (for we call ourselves both) form silent sullen groups of like-mindeds and quietly go out sometimes of an early summer eve for a night of butt-slappin' in the Big City, the Furniture City (we live in a giant Chippendale!), the City of Big Fishladders. Beware, upstanders, the black sheep have arrived, and they don't like honkers.

Jacob "Pickle Weasel" Nordby said...

Foo Daddy's Daddy

Well you sound like a spoil sport. Honkers are cool--especially when they get out and slap their BUTT at you. Sounds like your son is having bad retroactive acid flashbacks that perhaps YOU sowed the seeds for back in your Vietnam dodging days (see how rumors get started?) :)

FooDaddy's foodaddy said...

Git the name right, son. You're a sorry little cuss, aintcha. We generally leave your type be. Aint much point.