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Posted by Xxoozero Promoted 100 days 13 hours ago 4354 views
editorial
Informative / Informative General
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50 comments
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A tirade about shit that I am sick of, or more like one in a series of tirades of shit I am sick of.
So there I was… driving through downtown Denver to go to a job I hate so I can buy shit I don’t need… fumbling with the lighter and pipe because there is no way I am going to show up sober… needing a drink of water really, really, bad… perfectly on time down to the nanoest of seconds…
A fucking bicyclist. Yeah, that’s right, a god damn hippie on his bike. Why mention this you ask? Because that is what got in front of me. A fucking bicyclist. God damn.
15 MPH is not an acceptable speed for a vehicle traveling on main roads through metro areas. I don’t care if you are wearing a Lance Armstrong bracelet and biker shorts so tight your grandkids will be born with crushed balls, you will never be able to go fast enough to ride alongside motor vehicles. We have what is called a ‘sidewalk’ for things that move slow like that.
Back to our story. A very slow story because I was driving behind a bicycle with traffic on either side. Needless to say, my nanoseconds were ruined and I was late. It was 8:15 and my whole god damn day was already fucked.
The job I had took place in a high rise apartment. It took three hours and I was paid $61. In Euros, that is like $3 an hour. I claimed my cash and decided to head home.
In case you didn’t know, parking lots in high-rise apartment buildings are made really small. So small, in fact, that backing a compacted vehicle out of a parking spot is impossible… that is without hitting a tiny concrete pillar some damn overpaid Mexican construction worker put in the wrong spot and just left. As always, it is the innocent brown people who pay the price for those fuckers who cross the border heinously, and in this case it was the casing on my taillight that suffered. Before you even say anything, no, I wasn’t stoned.
Not yet anyways. Before I got out of that parking lot, however, you can bet I was. Sometimes life just gets to be too much and you got to take a puff or two. Sometimes three or four. When you get to be my age, ten to fifteen usually does the trick. By the time I am 50 I will need a little over an ounce to take the edge off.
For a block and a half my day was brightened. Except for the fact that I can’t have anything nice. I swear there is a group of assholes on bikes that follow me around and wait until I am in traffic to purposely pull out in front of me. My high took an angry turn and thoughts of bloody cyclists ran through my head. Good thing for the hippie his turn was one block before my breaking point.
What happened next is more of an everyday occurrence which should have been expected rather than just my day getting worse. None-the-less it made me want to rape kittens repeatedly with broken bottles. It was the gas light and its accompanying beeping sound. It was not so much the thought of stopping for gas and wasting my time that got to me… more that I would end up spending half a days wages for 6 gallons of gas.
I’ll say that again. Half a days wages for 6 gallons of gas.
Then came the traffic. At noon on a Wednesday. I know, I know. There is never a lot of traffic at noon on a Wednesday. Today was different. For some reason three lanes of the freeway were blocked off so 5 Mexicans could sit at the end of a mile of nothing standing around with hardhats while one guy backed up a truck. What the fuck?
Most of the time when you get home by noon, you had a nice day. There is no such thing as a nice day in the life of zero. Somewhere, some guy in some foreign third world country just lost his whole family to rebel scum. Fuck him. I’ll bet he rides a bicycle.
