Thursday, January 29, 2009

My Nemesis

Warning: If you don't like venom spewing forth from your computer screen, or if you don't like people making sweeping and most likely incorrect generalizations about someone who they have never met or never made any attempt to get to know, then this post is probably not for you.

     So, I was having a shitty day today, Company.  And I am not sure why.  Nothing bad happened at work.  No one upset me.  Just, for some reason I really, really wanted to be anywhere else.  And as I look back on it I sort of had a short fuse.  It's not like I went off on anyone but I think that if the wrong person had said the wrong thing it probably would have gone down, if you know what I mean.  I was even nice to the mechanic even though I waited four weeks for him to fix my car and then he had it for two days and it still wasn't done.  But I am not bitter and grumbling.  Actually, I think the reason I wasn't upset with him was because he was apologetic and making plans to do everything in his power to get it done today.  So since he was making an effort to rectify the situation I thought I would just relax and give him the benefit of the doubt.  See?  I might have had a slightly shorter than normal fuse but I was willing to work with people who are being reasonable with me.  And since everyone was being reasonable with me today we had no problem.  Crisis averted.
     I still had a sort of binding, deepening, unhappy and unsettled sort of feeling that was residing back behind the bottom of my sternum and sort of spreading its way up into my shoulders.  It's amazing how you can actually, physically feel the stress in one's body.  But I digress.  I've had this feeling in my all day long, and so it's no surprise that after I walked down after work and paid my rent (which involves going into a candy store and usually gets me in trouble, but not today) I did not feel like going home.  So I walked right past my apartment, right past Don in his barber shop, and right past M&M's son getting in his car, and to the Post Office.  I didn't expect there to be much in my PO Box, as I had gone and picked up my mail yesterday, but I was half-heartedly hoping that there would be a package waiting for me.  There was not, but there was an invitation to my niece's birthday party.  So I was looking at that, and it was cheering me up a little, and then it happened.  My nemesis drove by.
     This, in itself, is not a rare occasion.  Because, see that's all my nemesis does.  He drives his stupid fucking car up and down the same six blocks of the same little town day after day after day.  Or evening after evening after evening.  Or night after night after night.  It doesn't seem to matter the time or the weather, there he is always driving by.  Which to me pretty much means that he doesn't have a job.  And why would you?  Something as trivial as a job would cut into your being a raging douchebag.  And we wouldn't want that now, would we?
     Then there's the car.  I don't even know where to start.   Like the normal fucking social retard he has a car that he thinks is super cool.  But I am going to share a fact with you.  It's not.  I don't really know this boner, but I know someone who does, so I know that his 'rents went out and bought him a car.  This is not a big deal, as many parents buy their kids a car like when they are in high school.  And this asswipe was lucky enough to have parents with some scratch, so he got pretty much a carte blanche to do whatever he wanted.  And instead of getting a cool car with a little pop, he took a strange approach.  Usually what happens is that some lame asshole gets a shitty old Honda Civic and tries to trick it out with lame after market bolt on parts to try and make it look cool.  They do this because they can't afford a decent car.  This guy had the opportunity to get a decent car but instead chose to get a Saturn Ion, which is a relatively gutless family sedan, like the one that A-Town drives (no offense A-Town), and he then I am sure paid about eleventy billion dollars to have someone bolt the same after market lame parts on that the poor kids did.  Fantastic idea.  Obviously, in addition to being a fuckbag, this guy is a Goddamn genius.  So he's got this black Saturn Ion with lame black covers on the lights, lame black wheel covers, and probably some lame black ground effect package.  Oh, and he's got one of those packs on his muffler that makes his car sound louder, which is the biggest fucking waste of money I have ever seen.  I am not sure why anyone who had a working car would pay money to attach things that would make it seem like it's broken, but apparently when you are a fucking moron that's cool.  Me?  I would have just bought a shitty car to being with.  Or maybe I would have just disconnected the exhaust behind the catalytic converter, or maybe just in front of the muffler.  But then again, what do I know?  I am not super cool like the nemesis.
     In an exciting new development, he had his window open today.  I don't blame him, seeing as it was a balmy 18 degrees out this afternoon, but he often has his window open.  Even when it was 18 below outside.  Well, since he has tinted the hell out of his windows he probably puts it down on occasion so he can see outside.  Unfortunately this means that we have to see him.  And what I saw angered me and made me wanted to ralph all over my shiny shoes (Yeah, I wore my shiny shoes today).  Actually, what it made me do was wish that he would make a decision once in his life.  See, ass-blaster is far too cool to be able to come up with his own personality, or his own look, so he has tried to emulate the looks of other people.  And much like his decision in regards to his fucking stupid car, he has made a fucking stupid decision here.  Because what I saw through that open window as my nemesis and I glared at each other tauntingly was a mixture between Eminem and a flamboyantly homosexual European man.  Yeah, I can see you imagining that right now.  And now I can hear you laughing your ass off.
     The real reason he had the window open was because he was smoking, and in lieu of opening the window a crack and staying warm like a normal human being he had the window open.  And he was holding the cigarette like a flamboyantly homosexual European.  It was a bold move since I would guess that he doesn't even know where Europe is.  I am sure he saw EuroTrip and just copied what he saw, or maybe one day the batteries on his remote stopped working as he flipped through the Travel Channel.  But there is absolutely no way whatsoever that he actually knows anything about Europe, since it's not located along the six or eight blocks that he routinely drives over and over and over.
     I am sure that he knows about Eminem, though.  He probably has a lovingly worn copy of Eight Mile somewhere in his bedroom, that he's been taking notes on and jacking off to for the last four years.  He was dressed in that sort of small-town-or-suburban-white-boy-who-wishes-he-was-from-the-hood way with a black hat that he paid probably $642 for at Lidz, and a lame sweatshirt with the hood up over the hat, and I am sure that the clothing underneath started with the word wife and ended with the word beater.  And the pants?  I assure you that they were nice and baggy and made him look like a dipshit.
     I can just imagine him getting home, taking off his sweatshirt after a long afternoon of driving around aimlessly and smoking Virginia Slims, sitting down in a big recliner and having his mom ask him if he wants some Sunny Delight.  Because he lives at home with his parents.  he has to.  He HAS to.  There is no way around it, because a person who has their own job and lives on their own can't afford to just drive back and forth all day long for no reason.  They can't afford to have a nice new car that they modify to sound crappy.  And they usually can't afford to buy huge amounts of clothing to make them look like they live in the middle of a decimated urban area.  You can spot young people who live on their own by the usually newer but affordable or super crappy cars that they drive, they wear whatever clothes they have to wear to work or maybe jeans and T-shirts, and they eat a lot of mac and cheese and Ramen.  They certainly do not drive from parking lot to parking lot, sitting there and thinking they are cool.  They are too busy being AT WORK.  They don't have time to be a lazy sack of shit.  
     I wouldn't expect you to know that.  You are too busy sitting outside your mom's house, smoking your butt, and waiting for your fucking useless ride to warm up, all while thinking about how bad you have it.  Well, that's fine.  But I will give you another something to think about.  I am far cooler than you will ever be.  Because I am my own person and I am not a slave to what MTV tells me is cool.  And until you get that through your think, bong resin-coated head, I will always win.  So think about that if you can.  And let me know what you think next time you drive by in your fucking retardo-mobile.

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