Buhner Dot Com Est. 2000, which is like 1947 in Internet years.

Jackass

Sometimes I can be such a jackass. But it's the jackasses that bring it out of me.

I'm driving to Riverhead to go to the Chinese buffet last night and we find this good parking space near the buffet. I go to pull in and this man stands completely in my way, slowly walking in my path to the space. I assume that he's making his way to his car, and instead of honking at him, I wait. He continues to walk in my path and then turns, standing directly in front of the parking spot.

He's saving the spot.

I motion for him to move, and he points to another parking spot. Any other time, this would have been an acceptable spot, but it's just the principle of the thing. People can't claim parking spots. They're people. Especially if the car is nowhere near the spot that's being held for it. It's like calling "shotgun" the night before a trip.

So the pointing and gesturing continues. He's not moving, and neither am I. I've got two passengers in the car that are telling me 80 different things, but it all sounds like gibberish because the more I see this happen, the more I'm getting pissed. This guy is a friggin' jackass. Why not have his wife or whomever was driving the car park somewhere else? What's the big issue?

(Of course, I should be asking myself the same questions at this point, but remember, I'm a jackass. This jackass has infected me with his disease.)

I'm directed to another spot four spots away by one of my passengers. I'm tired of dealing with the situation (as much as I'd like to run the jackass over, I'm pretty sure it's not legal, even if he is blocking a parking space with his body), so I punch it in reverse and go to take the spot... which some other car is getting ready to pull into.

Ok, now I'm not going to lose two spaces. I punch it and cut into the spot... just a bit too tight. Some other nameless jackass has parked his huge truck next to it and never straightened it out, so it's angled so that his left rear is pretty much in the spot. It pushes in the side of my car ever so slightly, making an annoying sound that still rings through my ears. I got the spot - but at a hell of a price.

You think I was pissed before? It's quadrupled now. I launch into a shouting match with the space-blocker. I just pretty much launched into him both barrels, and I don't think I've ever been that close to physically assaulting someone. He played dumb as if people do this all the time.

Of course, my always helpful wife gets out of the car finally (she was sitting in the back - I think she actually screamed when I hit the truck) and tells me I need anger management.

That's spousal support right there. I'm flipping out at someone she was telling me to slam on the horn for and run over, and she's now pissed off at me. That's exactly what I needed.

It's all since passed. Me and the wife are cool again (although she probably still thinks I need anger management, and maybe I do), and the damage to the car isn't that bad - there's no obvious damage to the paint, and the dent can probably be pulled out with no problem. Maybe I'll go see Cliff and see how much it'll run me.

None of this would have happened if I had a motorcycle.