Sunday, November 4, 2012

Thought I Was Going To Have To Gas A Fool Yesterday

So there I was, minding my fucking business in my big rig…

A mid-sized Midwestern city, about 0530, on a major State Road, one way, three lanes, heading east…

I am in the middle lane.

Multiple, un-synchronized stoplights, speed limit is 35 mph…

Traffic is light…almost non-existent.

I am going about 38 mph because I am a scofflaw and a rebel…and also because I know from experience that at that speed I am most likely to hit more green lights thus saving time and clutch-leg energy and the possibilities of getting irritated and pissed off.

It is still dark, of course…as I am vampire-like, and I do my best work when the sun is not present.

Anyhoo…a white Hyundai hatchback passes me at high speed on my left, and then he aggressively cuts into my lane.

I note the shitty attitude being displayed by Hyundai-Boi (HB), but I do nothing more than mutter to myself, “What an asshole.”

(I also note that it is Saturday morning, and he is probably just now going home from partying all night, and is probably wasted.)

As I watch HB ahead of me the next mile or so, I note how HB speeds from light to light, getting to the next one just in time for it to turn red…and also just in time for me to smugly pull up to a stop behind him.

At this point, I’m getting near my delivery destination, which is on my left, so I must move over one lane.

There is one more stoplight between HB, my destination, and myself.

HB is over a city-block ahead of me.

I signal and slide on over to the far most left lane before I get to the last light.

HB sees this in his mirrors and swerves over to the far-most left lane just in time for that last stoplight.

At this point, I had closed the gap between us, and I had to make somewhat of an effort to avoid hitting HB.

So there we are at the stoplight.

The light turns green.

HB just sits there.

I give HB about 3 seconds to wake-the-fuck up, and then I’m grappling for the air-horn lanyard.

I give him a good blast.

He sits.

My Sergeant Rock combat antenna is beginning to activate.

I start to maneuver around him on the right, and HB begins to slowly move through the intersection…turning left without a signal.

As HB does this, he opens his door and hangs his left arm outside the car…while still moving…as if he is about to exit his car and whip my ass!

I thought to myself how humorous it would be if he fell out and was run over by his own vehicle.

I’m also thinking this asshole is going to try to get stoopid with me by circling around the block and starting some shit he’ll have wished he had never started.

I go around him and reach my destination, noting that I don’t see HB in my mirrors.

I shut the truck down and turn off all the lights as I’m making my delivery to be less conspicuous and because I am a pussy who is afraid of confrontation.

My head is on a swivel, and my cell phone is in my pocket in case HB shows up and becomes belligerent and I have to call Five-0 because I am unarmed seeing that my handgun license is not valid in the state I am in and carrying dirty would be wrong and also because I am bucking 50 years old and that's too old for a fist-fight or any other kind of silly donny-brook.

Anyhoo…I complete the delivery and don’t see HB.

I pull out of the parking lot and onto a side road that leads to the major State Road I was on earlier.

I am at a stoplight that is notoriously long…long enough that one can smoke an entire cigarette before the light turns green.

I am watching passing traffic and my mirrors for any signs of HB.

I have told myself that I don’t put anything past HB at this point, and that I could see HB pulling to a stop right in front of me to block my path.

Now…I have considered this scenario before, and I long ago came to the conclusion that Zoomie ain’t going down like Reginald Denny.

No fucking way.

If I must, I will make HB and his Korean shit-box my bitch.

I will turn them both into speed bumps with my rig.

I’ll deal with the consequences later.

The light is still red for me, and through the intersection comes a white Hyundai hatchback with a white dude driving it!

He kinda gives me the stink-eye…and I’m not 100% sure it is HB…but my adrenaline is pumping away like a recently restocked Staten Island gas station.

My light eventually turns green and I go about my business…watching for HB but never seeing him again.

These next two weeks I’ll have to remember to watch out for HB in this medium sized Midwestern city.

After those two weeks, I’ll never be in that city again.


Buck the Fuckeye nation.



  1. The drivers I've encountered in my several trips going across this country of ours is nothing short of unreal. I can only imagine what it's like for someone who drives for a living.

    These so called drivers piss me off. It's bad enough just going to town for supplies once or twice a month. So I salute you for doing what you do. You certainly have infinitely more patience with them than I do. ;)

    1. Trust me...I'm ready for a desk job, but I can't find a gig that'll pay me handsomely to create dark, threatening, cartoonish, and crappy intardnet images.

  2. You need to grab a Utah Non-Res permit, Zoomie.

    1. I know, but I HATE paperwork.
      Besides that, I already have one "permission slip" I shouldn't have had to get.
      Eff 'em.

  3. Flare gun. 'Cuz, ya know, you might break down in the boonies somewhere and need emergency help. Or you might need to gas a fool...

  4. "Some stupid with a flare gun burned the place to the ground."

    You would be kinda cool to blast a fool in the chest with a white star cluster.

    His innards would be lit up like the Fourth of July!

  5. I'll let you borrow my "driving words." ;)

    1. Thanks, but I have plenty in my repertoire.
      I don't need you.
      I can do this by myself.
      I often do...


    2. Just before reading this, I was thinking a Nalgene bottle of denatured alcohol and a jet lighter, but a flare gun would work. A good dousing with a 1000mL of SDA and getting chased with a flare gun would deter many fools, and if not detered, they'd make pretty fire sculptures.

  6. If you were in the fuckeye state, I know your pain, I live there and have run-ins with these assholes weekly. Had one last week and put up a post about it. I hope you get to stay out of where ever that is, but most are like internet tough guys, all tough till your standing in front of them.......

  7. What was I thinking! Marine, right? ;)

    1. Yep...but that was but a short period in my life. I have moved on. Sorta.

  8. I'm sitting here in the suckeye state.... eighteen wheeler parked (spending money, not making it) at the "T n' A". Spent some time this morning (sharing the narrow two lane)with Amish buckboards. White dude... black wagon... tinted... (never mind.
    Yeah, life be "fun" out here in the hinder lands....
    Glad ya' survived the morning!

  9. I used to drive nationwide and into C-eh-N-eh-D-eh too. Not a big truck though, a Ford speclaity van dragging 18' and 24' dual axle trailers, so I've seen these idjits too. But what pushed me, finally, into my CCH was a van full of ??? [windows TOO tinted to tell who / how many] I had my better 1/2 with me and we were traveling to a family wedding.

    These clowns kept running up on us, backing off, running up, backing off, ran by me, slammed on brakes, all for about 15 miles, rinse and repeat. All I could think was, "...I hope I'm not carrying my pocket knife into a gun fight!" Worst of all was that it scared the parc outta momma. And that pissed me off. I've been carrying for 4 years now and I don't even go out to walk the dog, feed my goats or cut my grass without Roger D. Ruger on my hip.

    It's like wearing a hat now, I know it's NOT there when I take it OFF.


Feel free to comment away with your bad-ass selves.

Cursing and foul language is fine...even encouraged here. In fact, I think cussing is fucking wonderful.

Just remember...this is MY house, and I will not be insulted or maliciously messed with here.

Good-natured ribbing is cool, but if you and I don't have some kind of previous relationship, you had best mind your fucking manners or I will relegate you to the intardnets dustbin for being a cunt.

To know me is to love me.

Or something.