Asshats Abound In San Francisco And Two Try To Run Me Down As Well
Whack-A-Doodle Wednesday is back! After over a month of “outdoor theatre performance eating my brain” I have returned. Granted, I am parceling out my time between writing a first draft of my second humor novel but I’m determined to at least stop in her twice a week at least.
The news is full of the disaffected nowadays. Occupy Wall Street, Occupy San Francisco, Occupy Winchell’s Donuts, the list goes on. My heart goes out to them. The state of our Union is failing. I am all for earning money through hard work. Believe me! I would LOVE to work hard and have a beautiful house in Newport Beach. It took me SEVEN YEARS just to find full-time work. I was not proud, I was not uneducated, I had experience. I was willing to do whatever would pay me money though I stopped short of selling crack to school children. I will admit there were times when that was looking pretty damned attractive but I fought the urge to become a criminal.
I understand the frustration of seeing uber-wealthy people and corporations take the money of the middle-class (after screwing us out of our life savings) and then screwing us again. It would be humorous if it wasn’t so sad and pathetic. Will we ever learn?
So what I have learned from this? I’ve learned that a great many people don’t live in San Francisco or Los Angeles or Reno. They live in the State of Me. They exist in a deluded state of entitlement that puzzles and pisses me off. Rules are for other people. They don’t apply to them.
Case in point, the other day I was almost killed twice in a ten-hour period by self-entitled asshats.
I get into the office early, I’m talking up at 4:45 or 5am and in the office at 6:45am. This is what I like to call the “butt crack of dawn”. It is still dark at this time of year. I was crossing the street to my office at 2nd Avenue and Harrison. The light was green and I was in the cross walk. A pickup truck comes around the corner nearly hitting me then has the nerve to stop and bitch at ME for being in the cross walk when he wanted to turn. Evidently I was supposed to stop for HIM.
Note for any future asshats who want to pull this shit, don’t get into this kind of idiocy with me at oh butt thirty when I haven’t had my grande, non-fat, no water Chai tea latte! I yelled at him to keep on driving, pedestrians have the right of way and the light is green or is he too stupid to figure that out. He then yells that I need to move, I tell him hitting me will move him to a jail cell where I would make it my life’s mission to make sure he was sold to the con with the most cheese sandwiches. He then drives off.
Cut to 4pm. Same day, same corner. SAME DAMN CORNER only this time it’s a woman in a brand new Mercedes who comes flying around the corner literally 12 inches from hitting me. Again, I’m in the cross walk with a green light. I lose it. I took down, see a small rock and toss it at the clueless bimb in the new Benz. Yes, I hit her car. Did it dent it? I have no idea. I’m sure it didn’t. It wasn’t much of a rock. Maybe it nicked her paint job.
The real question is how much more damage would she have done to me if I was walking just a touch faster when she barreled around the corner, talking (non-hands free) on her cell phone and paying zero attention to the road.
Yes, I am surrounded by self-entitled asshats. I can only hope that majority of us sane people re-assert ourselves and work to take our lives back. It is better than petty violence though I admit, hitting that car did feel good.