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You suck. I’m right, you’re wrong. No question.

December 13, 2009

I was in a rush the other day to get to one of the schools where I teach video.  Came to a red light, car in front of me.  The light changed green, he didn’t move.  I gave him the complimentary “get your head out of your ass” second to return to reality, still no movement.  I tapped the horn and gently cursed his stupidity.  No movement.  I lay on the horn and insulted his beat-up car, called him a jackass, and wondered why no one was as good a driver as I was and why I had to put up with such imbeciles.  No movement.  Argh!  MOVE, YOU MOTHER FU…  He looked at me in his rearview mirror.  What’s that?  I turned down the radio.  I looked to the left.  An ambulance was approaching.  Oh.  I looked down at my lap and created a look on my face that I hoped said, “There’s something wrong with my horn, sorry, didn’t mean to honk at you.  Have a nice day!”

I was in a rush the other day to get to one of the schools where I teach video.  (Maybe I should leave a little earlier…)  I always fill up the tank when I head to Kinzie, since it’s by Midway and gas is cheaper out there.  I quickly pulled up to the pump and swiped my credit card.  “Invalid zip code.”  What?  I did it right.  Stupid machine.  I punched in the zip code again.  “Invalid zip code.”  You stupid Midway gas station.  I rolled my eyes at the cashier window.  You stupid stupid cashier, why the f can’t you get your stupid machine to work properly?  Damn south side.  This would never happen on the north side.  I punched in the number again, exaggerating each press and muttering a different insult with fingerprint.  “Invalid zip code.”  FUCK!  I slammed my car door, peeled out of the Speedway and sped to the school.  All class, all drive home, all stairclimber huffing and puffing, I shook my head at the conspiracy of world against me, and couldn’t understand how me doing exactly what I was supposed to do could result in life not going how it was supposed to go.  Argh!  Oh.  Wait.  What number did I… 6-0-6-2-5.  Right, that’s right.  Wait.  No.  What’s my zip code?  2-5.  Wait.  No.  That’s when I lived on Wilson.  Two years ago.  I don’t have the same zip code now.  6-0-6-… oh shit.  5-7.

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