Not the clothes specifically, I’m sure their khakis and neckerchiefs are very nice, but the people that have that persona. Tonight as I’m pulling into my apartment and my typical parking space, some jackball walks out into the space as I’m pulling in. He freezes like a deer in my headlights and stares back at me for a minute. He’s wearing a pair of nicely pressed pants, a button up shirt, sunglasses in his hair, a blue-tooth headset in his ear and a shit-eating grin on his face. He continues to stand there while his equally annoying girlfriend/wife, who’s half his age and complete with her own blue-tooth headset, joins him in standing in my spot. Being the type person I am and having a general dislike for the type of people they are, I rev my engine a little. Just enough to make it clear that I really wouldn’t mind running them over. This elicits more staring. Once they’ve fully grasped the concept that I’m waiting for the spot that their consumer whore bodies are currently occupying, they open the doors of the Lexus in the next spot over. Sure to take his sweet old time, J.Crew leaves his door open while he eases himself into his leather covered seat. The second the door swings shut I’m in the spot. It takes them a full 2 minutes to ease their over priced Toyota out of the spot enough so I can open the door. The whole time I’m staring at them as they BOTH answer calls on the cancer producing widgets jammed in their ear. Normally, I’d let behavior like that slide, knowing full well that somehow karma would catch up to them. In this case I didn’t need to. Their Lexus sputtered and coughed leaving the parking lot, and, judging from the oil slick they left in the parking spot, I’d say karma is already knocking at the door. Hopefully the car breaks down on the way to their fancy cocktail party/jackass yacht club meeting and they’re terribly inconvenienced by the rental car company when the only car they have available this weekend is a Chevy Aveo. I also hope they’ve moved into my apartment complex so I can continue my silent war with them. It would be a shame if they were only here for a visit. I wouldn’t get to ask them where they got their lovely Burkenstocks.
Asshats.
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