No posts! Outrageous!
I was to Hell and back today, people.
Okay, so I was just driving around the Westside and Beverly Hills all day. And maybe in the scheme of things it's not that bad. And yes, I saw a lot of hot women. And it was a warm day, so they were dressed in their skimpies.
But I was stuck in soooo much traffic with so many strange people who behaved so strangely... I may never recover.
Like when I finished gassing up my car, and I pulled forward to wait my turn to pull out of the driveway... and a man pulled his car in between my car and the driveway -- directly in front of me -- put his car in reverse and tried to back up RIGHT INTO WHERE I WAS.
I screamed out the window for him to stop. Then I did something I never do: I engaged.
I asked him why, even if he was rude enough to get between me and where I was going, even if he was stupid enough to take such an odd route to where he was going... putting all that aside...
I wondered why he felt he was above the Laws of Physics, why he felt his car and mine could occupy the same physical space.
He stared at me, mouth open. The smell of ginseng and Kools was whiffing its way across the parking lot. He said, in an indefinable accent,"You gonna move?"
It was a Seinfeld moment. I wasn't going to move, people. Not at all. Not an inch. He gave, or we'd still be sitting there.
Then, a half hour later, I came out of a store to my car and got in, started it, and began to back out of the space... and a woman parked her car right across the back of mine. Where there was no space. Just stopped her car perpendicular to mine and got out, blocking me completely.
I rolled down my window (I was getting used to that by now) and called out, "Excuse me, you're blocking me in." (I can be very polite when I'm pretending to be polite.)
She rolled her eyes and said, "Well, I wouldn't have to if you weren't in the only parking space."
I pointed out that there were actually seven parking spaces.
I was in the only one about to be empty.
It would have been empty, if not for her, in about thirty fucking seconds.
(As you can see, I had given up on being polite.)
Couldn't she have waited thirty fucking seconds before her leathery sixty year-old-ass in its Juicy warmup suit jumped out of its Range Rover to buy some more leathery ass cream?
Or I said something like that. I may have thought it and just grunted a lot.
Anyway, she moved her car with a lot of eye rolling.
By the way, clearly, the lubrication required to roll her eyes came at the expense of the crusted-over cobweb factory between her legs, which hadn't seen action since backstage at a Disco Tex and the Sex-O-Lettes concert in the late '70's.
And then there was the building at 435 Bedford, which if you know it has the smallest elevator in the world. And in this elevator rode me and a woman changing her baby's diaper.
A woman changing her baby's diaper.
In an elevator.
Now I am home, and waiting for Lost to make it all better.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
No posts! Outrageous!