Old man stalking

My badcarma has no boundaries.

I drove to Monterey this weekend for a marathon. Calm down. I just did a relay, not the whole thing. But it ended up being a little over 13 miles, so it FELT like the whole thing.

So here's how my badcarma followed me.

I crossed over to Hwy. 101 from I5 on Hwy. 68, a mostly two-lane, windy road through some really pretty and ritzy countryside. Just west of Salinas, though, the highway is still four lanes. I knew it was about to shrink to two lanes and the two lumbering SUVs ahead of me were going too slow for my taste. But they wouldn't pull over to the right (a major pet peeve, as you know - SLOWER TRAFFIC MOVE RIGHT).

I pulled into the right lane and started to pass but they sped up, so I had to cut back into the left lane between the two SUVs as a bus was just ahead and I didn't feel like rear ending it.

Well, the guy in the trailing SUV, a big gold colored Yukon, apparently didn't like that maneuver. As soon as we cleared the bus, HE pulled into the right lane to pass.

We were coming up on the shrink down, and I could tell Mr. Angry Old man in the Yukon was over the top on this, so I let him pass and as he did we looked over at one another. I smiled and shrugged.

He glared, got a knowing smirk on his face and squinted his eyes at me. "Oh fuck you," I thought. "You angry old man."

Little did I know.

We proceeded the 15 or 20 miles or whatever on the two lane windy road and I was NOT tailgating the angry old sonofabitch. REALLY!

Then the road split. Right lane went to Seaside, straight ahead went to Monterey. Angry old man got in the right hand land. Perfect, I thought. I stayed straight on. In my rear view mirror, however, I saw angry old man quickly move into MY lane and then he sped up to attach himself to my bumper. I could see a lady in the car too and wondered if she was egging him on (Stand By Your Man'ish) or if, like my mother would have been doing, was berating him for being an idiot.

Or, I thought, he could just have realized he was in the wrong lane at the last minute and it had nothing to do with my egocentric self.

WELL, from 68, you make a quick jump onto 101 and cut over to the right to exit to Monterey. There was lots of traffic, there always is. So you have to pay attention. I forgot about angry old man and concentrated on what I was doing. Suddenly, I noticed hewas there on my left hand side, in the lane headed to Carmel. Ok, I thought, so he's not stalking me.

I pulled into the exit lane and was on my way. In my rear, I saw angry old man pull over two lanes cutting off traffic, in order to be on my bumper again. Hmmmmmmmm. This is going to be interesting, I thought.

I made a right on Munras. He made a right. I made a left at the first green. He made a left. I signaled left but at the last minute, went right and so did he. Ha! This was actually kind of fun!!!

I took him on a little tour of downtown Monterey until I noticed the time. Shit. I was late, enough stalker hijinks. I got into a right-only turn lane at a red light, with cars to my left. My angry old companion was right behind me. The light turned green and I peeled out and cut in front of the guy on my left (sorry dude!). Angry old man had NO maneuvering room and was forced to continue on to the right, which took him to Del Monte and a one-way ticket to Seaside.

He rolled down his window and gestured to me in the time honored tradition that I was No. One in his book. Awwwwww.

Most single chicks driving long distance probably get stalked by guys looking for a confirmation of their masculine attractiveness, or just an easy pushover. Whichever.

Me? Noooooo. I get an angry old man in a gold Yukon with serious anger issues.

Again, I wondered how he would tell this story to his friends. Do you think he has any?

Gas prices

I want a Harley.

Park it!

I really hate some people. Seriously.

I went to my gym the other day....MY gym!!! I love that place and have been going there for a couple of years now with no problems.

I parked, went in, lifted some weights, ran on the treadmill and about an hour later I was happily returning to my vehicle. Minding my OWN buisiness, I might add.

As I came up on the rear end I noticed something that hadn't been there before.

WRITING on the rear window of the camper shell on the back of my truck!

WRITING!

It said, "PARK RIGHT!!" in flourescent green pen. The kind that washes off. (I quickly checked by wetting a fingertip and wiping it across the writing to make sure some A-hole hadn't permanently damaged my truck!)

I stood there looking at this missive from, presumably, a fellow parking lot mate, perhaps even a fellow gym mate.

PARK RIGHT!!

I checked the lines and saw that I was actually well within them on both sides. I wasn't sqeezed in at an angle or anything. And I'll admit to some really horrendous parking on my part, specially when I'm in a hurry.

I tried to remember what kinds of vehicles I had parked between when I first got there. I remembered parking between two cars, maybe an SUV on one side. But couldn't remember the makes or models or even the colors.

Kojak would be so disappointed in my detective skills.

Anyway, by this time, the two other cars had left. I guess one of the drivers of those vehicles left really pissed off. But I couldn't figure out what I'd done.

What probably happened is I'd parked fine but the person on my right-hand side hadn't parked fine and was close to, or over, the line into my space. Because I exited through the left-hand door, however, I didn't notice. But they did when they tried to get in their door and didn't have enough room.

Ok, I thought, I probably didn't do anything wrong so no need to feel guilty.

So, instead I got really. really mad. Who the F! thinks it's OK to write on another person's car for poor parking (and I hadn't even parked poorly!)????

And, by the way, who has flourescent green pen that writes on windows handy to vandalize other people's cars at the drop of a hat?

I was fuming. I wanted to find this chick (I assumed it was a woman because I go to a women-only gym and there aren't any other businesses that use that parking lot) and get her to explain exactly what was going through her alleged mind at the time she defaced my property.

PARK RIGHT!!

I'll show her PARK RIGHT!! - right upside her head!

I didn't have anything with me to wipe off the offending message so I had to drive home with it scrawled across my rear window. Which means I had to see it every time I looked in my rear view mirror. GRRRRRR!

I got home and told my husband. I'd really worked myself up and was fairly shouting by that time and dragged him outside to see the "damage."

"It'll come off." That was all he said.

And it did.

What's in a name?

Sheila E asked why the other passenger in the COCKSUCKER story was called The Member.
"Is it because he's a dick?" she asks.

Well, I don't know if I'd go that far.

But I can say that his own "member" is a highly important part of his life, his focal point, you might say. And somehow talk of his member makes it into almost every conversation. (those of you who know who I'm talking about KNOW it's true!)