‘Tis the Season to Be…A Douchebag, Apparently

Christmas is a time for happiness, joy, peace, and goodwill to one another, correct?

Wrong.

It’s the time where everyone scrounges up whatever leftover money they’ve kept for themselves to search for gifts for materialistic people who are probably going to forget about them anyway, and attitudes and anger issues are at a nation-wide high. From Black Friday through about December 30th (you have to account for the returns from said materialistic jerks [only about 50% are legitimate returns, i.e., already had it]), it seems that everybody is too involved in their own life to care about anybody else’s. That wouldn’t be a problem, mind you, if they weren’t raging assholes along the way. (Pardon mon français.)

Where I live, there just so happens to be a lot of road construction occurring. Why they decide to do it in December when it rains every day instead of the end of September/beginning of October when tourist season is dying down but the weather is still nice is beyond me. The rain wouldn’t be an issue if they didn’t stop construction for it, prolonging the end. (When will it finally be the eeeennnnd?) Well, for some strange reason, the town I live in only has one way out. The construction occurring is making the way out three lanes instead of two and the way in one lane instead of two (because, whoever designed the entrance to this town is stupid and there’s two ways in and one way out.)

The flow of traffic leaving this town is better now, yes, but there’s one problem — they decide to do this construction between 1 and 5 pm every day. That’s…the only time there are cars. And they shut the end of the third lane down as well as the second lane, leaving only one lane out. At the end, at the exit, at the place where everyone can finally be free of this idiot town, they cut off our only escape and allow us to mimic L.A. traffic for a while. Bastards. It’s not a big town I live in. And they cause a ridiculous amount of unnecessary traffic due to this. My house is a mile away from said exit, and the other day the lines were backed up on two parallel roads and all the way up every single side street along the way the whoooooooole way back to my house. It’s a pretty short bus situation, let’s be honest. Why not 10am-1pm? 6pm-9pm? No one’s there at those times. They’re still early so you don’t have to do it at 3 am.

Ugh. Back to the point.

I was at the end of the road where they shut everything down, and there was a white van next to me, coming to the big orange sign that said “ROAD CLOSED.” Now, I know I posted some reasons I hate driving, but I’m a nice person. I want to avoid accidents. It was his turn to go, so I waved him in.

He didn’t move.

“Come on,” I said, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. “Let’s go.”

I was waving my hand for a good fifteen seconds before he finally moved. Why did I not just pass him? The honest answer to that, I’ll be real, is I was afraid as soon as I started driving he would, too. I don’t have the time, the patience, or the money for an accident, and I didn’t want to have to make traffic any worse than it already was. I’m a smart driver.

So he got into my lane, we went through the stop light and back into our separate lanes. (All of this traffic over one stoplight. Once you’re there it takes two seconds to leave, but 30 minutes to get to. So much rage…) I got into the right, he stayed into the left. We came around a corner, he rolled down his passenger window, and…

He threw a quesadilla at me.

?

Wha…?

Do you…?

Can you even react to that? What do you do in that situation? Did he…think it was going to hurt me?

I’ve come up with a few options.

One, if you want to make a humorous endeavor out of it, sing the following song:

Two, if your window is down and you want to throw in a mixture of humor and anger, shout, “Let me know next time! I’m hungry!”

Three, if you’re lucky enough to have a quesadilla of your own, throw it back.

My quesadilla has beans and a triple bypass written all over it. What's your quesadilla's superpower?

My quesadilla has beans and a triple bypass written all over it. What’s your quesadilla’s superpower?

Four, you just get angry. There’s no real options you can legally get away with whilst in a car, apart from a lot of choice words and maybe a couple of fingers, but it’s always an option.

Five, you can act just like I did — dumbfounded. It was more shocking than it was aggravating. Why did this random person who I’ve never seen in my life just throw a quesadilla, of all things, at my car? Especially because I was letting him go his turn!

May your next quesadilla bring you diarrhea.

I was on my way to Target to meet up with my friend, who was actually the brains behind option 2. We shopped around for me to finish buying all of my Christmas presents (I spent longer than I’ve ever spent Christmas shopping in my life. I’ve never been so excited to leave Target before.) We decided to go out and get some grub afterwards (because shopping, I feel, burns a lot of calories. Maybe that’s why women do it so often.)

On my way back to my car, some dimwit had put a Target cart right behind my car. It wasn’t even like it just slid itself through the parking lot. Or someone had just forgotten. No. I was parked right next to the curb, and they put it on the curb perpendicular to my car (about an inch away from my trunk) instead of parallel.

What…dicks.

I understand it wasn’t very hard to scoot the cart out of the way. It’s not like it takes an American Gladiator to move those things. It was the principal behind it that got me. (Mind you, I was still left traumatized by the quesadilla experience, so perhaps my judgment was, and still is, a little off.)

I just don’t understand why people have to be so locked in their own worlds like that. You’re standing right next to my car. How did you not…really? Just, really?

May your next shopping endeavor leave you with…well, nothing I could say here would be nice enough to not sound vindictive and revengeful. So, I suppose I wish someone just does the same to you. With a wall of bricks instead of a cart.

If you’re a friend of mine and you’re reading this, and you ask me why I don’t buy you a present, here’s a few reasons:

One, where’s mine? I don’t like sounding selfish, but every time someone’s birthday or Christmas or whatever comes around, all of a sudden everyone asks me for gifts. People I’ve never gotten anything from. Why should I go spend time, money, and thought for you when you wouldn’t do the same for me? (It’s not like I don’t buy anyone presents and it’s not like I expect anything in return. It’s just close friends and family, mostly, so get off me.)

Two, I can’t wrap. You may think this is silly, but I’m serious. It looks like the aftermath of an elf’s sneeze when I wrap presents. When I was wrapping last night, I ran out of tape on my second present. I then found packing tape and spent a good amount of time cutting little strips of tape to hold together the presents. Apparently the Target wrapping paper I bought was not the best. Every time I folded it, it ripped. I had to make the presents puffier than a petticoat and they look redonculous. And I don’t have time to do that for everyone in the entire world, excuse me.

Seriously, look at those two on the left. What's...going on? And yes, that is the Hobbit standing up. No, it's not a gift, it was just conveniently sitting behind the presents and I'm showing my support and excitement for the film. =)

Seriously, look at those two on the left. What’s…going on? And yes, that is the Hobbit standing up. No, it’s not a gift, it was just conveniently sitting behind the presents and I’m showing my support and excitement for the film. =)

So, after all of this, I would just like to say–

Stop being a skadoosh, enjoy the holiday season with your family and friends (preferably with constant smiles instead of fake ones), and watch out for flying tortillas.

//

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5 thoughts on “‘Tis the Season to Be…A Douchebag, Apparently

  1. I’m glad you have a blog to vent it all out on. It makes interesting reading! (smiles)

    Your gifts look fine. It really is the thought that counts in my opinion. If someone complains. put their gift in a brown paper bag next time and staple it shut.

    • Muahahahaha good idea! Fortunately for me, no one complains about the wrapping I do…but it doesn’t stop my perfectionist mind from feeling inadequate. Haha. But that paper bag idea sounds like a veeeery nice time saver…

      • One time I wrapped my gifts in the comics from Sunday’s paper and tied them with twine. I got points for originality. Maybe Ziplock bags…?

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