Wednesday, July 29, 2009

I study him for the cuts, the scars, the pain no time can erase, I move hard to the left and I strike to the face

Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Let me throw you a hypothetical folks. Catch it if you can on the outside it's Brinker and underneath the Brinker, it's shit-ty. Say you're driving. Just tootling along, doubtless with the cruise control set to 10k per hour below the speed limit. You see a car ahead, on the right (let's assume this hypodermical is taking place in France) waiting, in stationary mode, to pull out when you pass. You just keep driving. I know. But let's say that there's yet another dimension to this hypochondriacal. You are batshit insane and convinced that every driver is as crap and careless and crass and blind as you and therefore that an automobile waiting in a slip road is almost certain to pull out in front of you, the clearly driving too slow batshit insane guy.

That's our scenario.

Do you:

a) Slow even downer, keeping both hands on the wheel so that you might avoid this potentially fatal collision.


b) Speed up, remove one hand from the wheel, and place it on the horn, working, one supposes, on the assumption that a car horn is some kind of highly advanced disintegration ray that targets potential obstacles. And do you do this every single fucking time this situation or anything vaguely resembling it presents itself? And do you also feel the need to announce every single fucking time that anyone is getting into the car "I'm not trying to rush anyone, I'm just getting the air conditioning going." Do you, in fact, announce this over forty times in the space of ten days as if nobody got it the first time?

If you answered 'b', then I am afraid that we are enemies, you and I. Not because of the bullying, the manipulation, the selfishness thinly disguised as selflessness bit. No, not because of those. Because of the air con horn thing.

8 Johns and Janes for the comment whore:

savannah said...

you win, sugar! i'll never complain about the off tune humming again....ever...i swear! and bless your heart, honey, for not even thinking about backing over him slowly...and repeatedly!
(hypothetically speaking, of course.) xoxox

Manuel said...

that's why me and the kona stick to the pavement.....

fatmammycat said...

Good holiday then?

gimme a minute said...

I am the champions.

The disintegration ray reaches to the path and has a special bicycle setting.

You know it.

Flann O'Coonassa said...

See what you're experiencing there Gimme, is 'road rage'. Granted, I'm no scientician, but I'm pretty sure the best available psychoanalytical advice suggests that you must amplify your rage into physical acts of violence, so that they are purged good and proper.

The violence doesn't have to be visited necessarily upon the source of your irritation. A stranger will do fine.

Medbh said...

Ah, the tension.
I can feel it.

Fat Sparrow said...

Wait, what was the middle part again?

gimme a minute said...

I am rage free, wallowing as I do in a pit of seething hatred.

But I may just heed your advice nonetheless.

I am deeply unshocked to learn that its vibrations can be felt across the ocean.

Fat Sparrow:
That would have been the 'a.5' option, viz, get lost while looking for and being within visual range of, a massive hypermarket, then engage the garmin and proceed to studiously ignore said garmin's advice.

It's the alternative for the ages.

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