Respect Your Elders, Unless They Are Stupid

This afternoon was an irritating afternoon. I got off work a half an hour early because earlier today I woke up a half an early and then went to work a half an hour early and subsequently hoped to return home a half an hour early as well. Unfortunately, traffic and to a greater extent, God, did not want this to come unto be. Instead, the bridge crossing the great Mississippi that I need to take home was backed up five, count them five, miles. Traffic grinded to a halt. Me, being in the right hand lane, soon noticed several cars using the shoulder as an extra lane of traffic. I assumed these cars were getting off at the next exit. Fine, whatever. Then, some of these cars started to try and get in front of me. They evidently didn't care that my vehicle could possibly hit their vehicle. Nor did they care about my horn, my middle finger, and my shouts of anger. What they evidently did care about was the fact they are jerks and will hopefully lose all their belongings in some sort of house fire that doesn't injure any of their family members because their family members are way too busy gambling the insurance settlement away. Thus, they live poor and unhappily after, like they deserve to.

After this upset me, I decided to head over to another bridge, one where the traffic hopefully moved faster than the car quagmire I found myself in. Thus, I took the next exit (staying in the right hand lane the whole time might I add). Unfortunately, being new to the QC, I wasn't exactly sure how to get from Bridge A to Bridge B. I found myself in a rather unsavory neighborhood where large mothers slowly walked their baby carriages filled with multi-colored babies (thus preventing me from having to donate any money to charity) down the street. They walked slow enough that any possible health benefits from calories lost were offset by the bag of M and Ms and the calories gained while they simultaneously ate. Two of the said mothers stopped their excruciating walks only to talk to one another about the fact they've both brought entirely too many children into a world they do not understand and cannot possibly afford. This conversation would all be well and good, if it weren't taking place in the damn middle of the damn street I currently drove down.

I eventually passed the behemoth mothers to find an area that was vaguely familiar. Familiar because it was the same area I spent last Wednesday working with the United Way and participating in a "Day of Caring."

Predictable Sidebar 1: If you've never ever managed people ever, and you are given the role of "Team Leader" for a charity event, I have some advice for you: Try not yelling at every single person that gave up a day of work to help repaint a YWCA. Instead, try being nice and friendly and, I don't know, fun. That way, you won't get a smart ass participant tell you that you've single handedly ruined charity for everyone. I guess this is why Latin Women shouldn't be given any sort of power. End Predictable Sidebar.

The good news, from this now beautifully renovated YWCA I found the bridge I needed to go home. The bridge did in fact have traffic moving across it. Shortly thereafter, I parked in my parking spot and went into my apartment. Shortly thereafterthat, I left my apartment and went to my car parked in my parking spot. My car was parked next to a black faux SUV with Iowa Hawkeye memorabilia.

Predictable Sidebar 2: I live downtown, where parking comes at a premium and thus is not cheap. On the plus side of all this, I pay for a designated parking spot downtown that I can use every minute of every day if I so choose. The parking spot sits in a lot with giant signs everywhere that say, "If you don't have a permit, you will be towed." Thus, only an idiot would park in a spot without a permit because, if you've been following along, they'd get towed. That's why three or four weeks ago on my second to last day of working for the Big Red Evil it annoyed me to find this blasphemous Hawkeye car parked in my spot at 2:30 in the afternoon. I'd seen the car before parked in several spots in the lot but never before in mine. Thus, I got the car towed. Later that day, I enjoyed watching out my window as the owner of the vehicle walked around the lot befuddled. End Predictable Sidebar.

The car, which was today parked next to me, had a man inside of it. When I walked to my car, he waited to see if I for sure owned the car, and then, once sure, said, "Thanks so much for getting my car towed the other day." The rest of the conversation played out accordingly:

"You shouldn't have parked in my spot."
"You could have just walked around the corner and got me in the shop. You caused me a big hassle and cost me over $100."
"I didn't realize you worked around the corner in the shop, as you didn't leave a note on your car notifying me of your exact whereabouts."
"You just shouldn't have got me towed."
"No. You shouldn't have parked in my spot. I pay for that spot and in my mind, it's the same thing as parking in someone's garage. Would you park in someone else's garage?"
"Thanks again for getting me towed."

The man, in his mid to late sixties, then huffed off. All I wanted to do this afternoon was enjoy an early half hour playing Halo, but instead, I had to get annoyed by idiot drivers, overweight white trash procreation machines, and an old, irritating man who owns a zipper repair store in a velcro world. To them I say: Thank you. I'd been running short on blog material, and this ought to cover it for a few days.