mini fights with mini vans

I have a lot of anger and angst pent up in this little (and expanding) body. Sometimes, when I’m driving, walking, shopping, doing laundry, coming home, going to work, riding the bus–what I mean is all the time, not sometimes–I get really combative with those around me. So much so that I frequently imagine confrontations and how things would play out if some random shitsack bumped into me, didn’t get out of my way, cut me off, left their shit in the washer for 90 minutes, slammed their apartment door at 11:30 p.m., let their whiny rat of a dog bark forever, smoked right outside of my office in a non-smoking area … well you get the point, that almost everything imaginable and some things that are unimaginable just piss me the fuck off.

And when I imagine these confrontations, needless to say they always turn out really well for me, which I’m absolutely positive would not be the case were they to play out in real life. I can say this with certainty because rare though it happens, when it does I end up backing the Mazda hatchback out of a warehouse alley after getting out of the car to do absolutely nothing. I’m not being figurative in saying that either. Once, someone cut me off and after honking, yelling, and following them for ten minutes, I ended up in a cul de sac in a warehouse district with a cornered mini van and nothing else to say or do in the privacy of the ghetto. But wait, I didn’t actually just back the car up. I got out of the car, naturally, to take a picture of their license plate which, to this day, I cannot figure out what the fuck for.

Talk about extreme intimidation. Obviously my dangerous, erratic, and irrational behavior intimidated them enough to get them, and me, lost in a warehouse district. I bet that picture of their license plate was the icing on a really intimidating cake.

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