Friday, 27 August 2010
Thursday, 26 August 2010
Okay, that may be a generalization, but when did teenagers get so rude? Yes, I must be that old.
Driving in town, down a one-way street. Three guys, three girls. Skinny, scantily clad, tattooed and smoking. So what?
They were in the middle of the road, so I assumed they wanted to cross. I waved them on - you know – hand motion that indicates they are safe from the hazards of your front bumper?
Should’ve given them the bumper.
One guy gestures for me to go around them. I wave them across.
“B****, go around. We ain’t crossing!!”
I calmly roll down my window and ask “Why are you yelling at me?” I am calling his bluff. It’s easy to yell at a tinted window.
“Cuz, b****, we ain’t crossing. I told you to go around us!”
(So this is what it feels like to have your blood pressure shoot to the top of your skull and out the sunroof.)
“Then get out of the middle of the road.” Notice how I am still rising above?
“F*** YOU! Drive AROUND US you F*B*” By this time, all six of the lost, misunderstood teenagers are yelling profanities at me, but to give the girls credit, they did have the smarts to get out of the middle of the road.
At this point I am picturing all sorts of ways to teach these kids the difference between sidewalk and road, and what belongs where. These lessons all involve Dodge engineering and teenage angst, so just keep yelling, brats (see road rage in any urban dictionary).
But I rose above and drove on, fighting off the red mist at the edges of my vision.
I almost made it to the corner with my halo intact.
I almost turned out of their lives forever; sad and bewildered that the parenting skills of many of the next generation has bred such disrespect. and yet still, my halo intact, not instigating any blood baths.
But before I knew what happened, my brain triggered my finger straight up and out of the sunroof, giving them all the one-fingered salute.