Wednesday, April 11, 2012
A Letter to Citizen Garbage
To the guy who was driving a van that looked like an Astro van but wasn’t because you weren’t cool enough,
I was the one on the yellow motorscooter who honked at you. Your van was that ugly, retro grey-brown that people thought was an awesome color, but isn’t anymore. You were on the larger side. Not the oh-my-god-I’m-so-fat-I-get-stuck-behind-the-steering-wheel fat, but enough that your van probably sinks to one side when you get in. We were on some road in Towson, headed for Bosley Ave. I think you were wearing a white tee, and if I could imagine it – which I can – it was probably stained yellow around the pits, neck and on the stomach where you probably drop a lot of food. It wasn’t that warm outside and the wind was blowing. Your windows were rolled up but you were probably sweating. Not a lot though. Just a thin film of sweat on your face. Not enough to turn into droplets, but moist. You were pulling left, out of your parallel park job, to merge into my lane. I was the one behind that medic truck. You were looking right as you pulled out left.
I don’t understand this. Were you looking at something in your passenger seat? Was a Towson girl, over tanned, with blonde hair, walking by? Were you looking at the clusterfuck of papers, maps and McDonald’s wrappers on your dashboard and thinking, “Why the hell is all this shit on here?” Well I was thinking that, because I saw the clusterfuck on your dashboard and you looking the other way and pulling out in front of me and I was thinking, “What is that clusterfuck on his dashboard? Why is he looking away? Is he pulling out?” and that’s when I honked my horn. It wasn’t a hey fuck you buddy honk, but a hey, don’t hit me honk. Because I don’t like being hit, and I’m sure you didn’t want me to sue you or have little pieces of dead girl in your carburetor because I hear that it’s a bitch to clean, not like you would clean it you fat fuck. And I’d just sit there collecting all sorts of nasty shit. I’d just sit there, a part of your stupid van.
I was doing you a favor. But after that nasty look you gave me, maybe it should have been a fuck you honk because you seem like a dick. So next time, why don’t you look where you’re driving, so when you see me I don’t seem like a jerk for doing us both a favor.