Believe it or not... I like to consider myself a rational individual. This may or may not be the truth. Earlier today my faith in this concept was tested to an extent I'd never like to endure again. I was driving through a neighborhood I have never particularly favored, an enclave for old people. Perhaps I am an age-ist but I generally find old people offensive and we generally seem to disagree at a high degree. Anyhow, I'm merely attempting to pass through a "retirement community," when something unexpected happened. Most people have been asked "why does a chicken cross the road" before. My question is simultanously different albeit similar.
An old male was crossing the road in-front of me, so I was "forced" to stop in front of him, while letting him cross the street (jay-walking pos). For some reason, my guess was dementia, he stopped crossing the street once he gained sight of me. Normally, I would proceed to use this situation to speed off, embarassing said individual, while maximizing my travel time. The whole age-ist thing 'helped' hold me up, though. He approached the window of my car, while I did my best, attempting to containt my excitement.
"You're the Irish guy that keeps speeding through the neighborhood, aren't you?" He asked me.
"Well I am an Irish guy," I responded "and I do speed through your neighborhood and will continue to do so. I suppose the question is what do you plan to try and do about it?"
I don't think he saw this - or frankly any response coming. I'm also going to guess he didn't like Irish people nor do I understand how he discerned I was Irish but these are powers beyond my comprehension. Perhaps he and the neighborhood comittee were simply informed of my face & last name - that seems to make the most sense as I have frequently flouted their rules that I deemed to be unimportant, with joy.
Yet my utter confidence was met with uncertainty. I definately did not see his response coming. I suppose that is the strength of a demented individual, unpredictabilty.
He raised his cane threatening to hit my Tercel - from hell. He had called my bluff and I proceeded to laugh in his face. This didn't please him.
"I'm going to stop you here in traffic (there was none around us) and call the authorities." He said.
I'm trying not to laugh partly because I was going to have him arrested for jay-walking and also because I felt sorry for him. Yet, there was another variable still in the mix. His maid, and hopefully hospice worker runs out of a house - assumingly his.
"What in the devil? I'm sorry sir, what's happened?" Asked the nurse dressed in full pink.
"This guy accosted me, threatened me and then made a racial slur in my direction," I said to the black woman I was speaking to.
"Racial?" she questioned as she looked me up and down.
"Correct." I stated with supreme confidence.
"So you a white-boy attempting to pull some racist bullshit on me and an oldy? I don't think so hunny."
"Oldy" I questioned "who the fuck says that?"
"I ain't got no time for you" was the response I was met with.
I was humilated. Despite the fact that I was in the right, in my view, I was cut off by a hospice worker and given an extremely curt but probably deserved...
Reality Check.
An old male was crossing the road in-front of me, so I was "forced" to stop in front of him, while letting him cross the street (jay-walking pos). For some reason, my guess was dementia, he stopped crossing the street once he gained sight of me. Normally, I would proceed to use this situation to speed off, embarassing said individual, while maximizing my travel time. The whole age-ist thing 'helped' hold me up, though. He approached the window of my car, while I did my best, attempting to containt my excitement.
"You're the Irish guy that keeps speeding through the neighborhood, aren't you?" He asked me.
"Well I am an Irish guy," I responded "and I do speed through your neighborhood and will continue to do so. I suppose the question is what do you plan to try and do about it?"
I don't think he saw this - or frankly any response coming. I'm also going to guess he didn't like Irish people nor do I understand how he discerned I was Irish but these are powers beyond my comprehension. Perhaps he and the neighborhood comittee were simply informed of my face & last name - that seems to make the most sense as I have frequently flouted their rules that I deemed to be unimportant, with joy.
Yet my utter confidence was met with uncertainty. I definately did not see his response coming. I suppose that is the strength of a demented individual, unpredictabilty.
He raised his cane threatening to hit my Tercel - from hell. He had called my bluff and I proceeded to laugh in his face. This didn't please him.
"I'm going to stop you here in traffic (there was none around us) and call the authorities." He said.
I'm trying not to laugh partly because I was going to have him arrested for jay-walking and also because I felt sorry for him. Yet, there was another variable still in the mix. His maid, and hopefully hospice worker runs out of a house - assumingly his.
"What in the devil? I'm sorry sir, what's happened?" Asked the nurse dressed in full pink.
"This guy accosted me, threatened me and then made a racial slur in my direction," I said to the black woman I was speaking to.
"Racial?" she questioned as she looked me up and down.
"Correct." I stated with supreme confidence.
"So you a white-boy attempting to pull some racist bullshit on me and an oldy? I don't think so hunny."
"Oldy" I questioned "who the fuck says that?"
"I ain't got no time for you" was the response I was met with.
I was humilated. Despite the fact that I was in the right, in my view, I was cut off by a hospice worker and given an extremely curt but probably deserved...
Reality Check.
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