March 26th, 2006


Why can't daddy take the T-Bird away?

In the almost seven years (count them, one, two, three, four, five, six, almost seven years) that I lived in Boston, I had a total of two car incidents.  The first was a 17 year old dipshit coming out of a side street when he shouldn't.  The other was a cab brushing up against a bumper while I was parked.  Two incidents, almost seven years.

I've been in CA not even three years yet, and today I got car incident #3.

I'm at Michaels art supply place picking up materials to build Colin Farrell's eyebrows.  I pay, go to my car and start it.  Someone on the other side backs out.  I wait.  They finish, I back out.  Half way through my backing out someone ELSE on the other side starts backing out right towards me.  I lay on the horn.  Nothing.  I continue to lay on the horn.  Nothing.  Someone ELSE starts laying on their horn too.  THUD.  Stupid bitch backs right into me.  I couldn't gun it and go forward because of previous person to back out.  I couldn't go backwards because there were pedestrians the last time I looked in my mirror, so I wasn't about to gun it back either.  So I got to sit there while she backed her fat black car right into Madeline.

I jammed on my horn so hard that my thrum hurts from the knuckle all the way down to the heel of my hand.

And they call Massachusetts drivers assholes.  What ever.