Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Shitty Van, Shitty Car, Shitty People. And a Bum in a Hat.

It has been a very eventful morning, and I cannot wait to tell you about it!

First, a woman decided to GET OUT OF HER VAN and come berate me for not making a full two-second stop. I apologized, but she decided to keep talking. So I thanked her for doing that, but in kind of a snippy way, as if I WASN'T REALLY THANKING HER AT ALL! Her basic reason for giving me a lecture was that there were many children in the neighborhood on their way to school, and my failure to carefully and completely stop put their lives in danger. I did think about this later, and about how it would suck to kill a child with my 1994 teal Corolla, unless it was that woman's child, in which case it would feel okay. BECAUSE WHAT A BITCH. Stay in your van, lady, or your child may face the consequences of my eagerness to turn right. Anyway, I can't wait to have kids so that I can feel justified in getting out of my car at red lights and yelling at people. But it won't be kid related, I'll just tag that on at the end. Like, "Your car is a piece of shit and I don't agree with the statement your ironic bumpersticker is making! I mean, Jesus Christ, I got kids in there!" (I'll be pointing back to my idling car at this point.) "Be more fucking careful about not being so shitty! I got kids!"

Then, I noticed that another car behind me had one of those dudes in a crumpled baseball cap sporting a natty moustache and blu-blockers who was smoking—what we must assume was a mentholated—cigarette. His car was small and shitty and brown like shit. I bring this up because he represents a very distinct dude-archetype and I want to know how you get to be that dude? Like, okay, shitty car is fine. We all walk (drive?) a fine line between okay car and shitty car every day of our lives. It only takes one divorce to get there. But to embrace the style he was rocking...I mean, he has mirrors in his house, or subsidized apartment or whatever. He can see the clothes he puts on in the morning...and the moustache he carefully trims at night. He's like "You look okay, Ron. At the very least you look employable in the construction or transportation industries. And no one could possibly think you were gay. I did notice a homeless guy wearing that hat, though. Get a new hat this weekend, Ron." Anyway, something to work towards, I guess.

On the topic of homeless guys in hats, there is a bum in a hat who comes every week and takes our bottles from the recycling bin, but he didn't come this week. Either he knows the alternate holiday recycling schedule (which no one on our block knows, as trash still sits curbside waiting to be picked up), or he took the week off for Labor Day (or as the Candians call it, Labour Day). Either way, what a crazy bum in a hat.

Those are the events that my morning was full of.


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