I’m walking down the street yesterday thinking about my impending trip out to Dallas and what that may mean in terms of my future with this company. I’m pretty thrilled, since it seems I may have finally reached that yuppy golden calf: middle management.
Anyway, I’m walking down to the bar to get a beer with the Woman, when some street urchin kid half my age (Ok, side not: When did half my age become a teenager? When did Half My Age start smoking and borrowing their mothers minivan? Half My Age used to be a kid in the middle of puberty for fucks sake! Anyway…) shoves me and sullenly declares “What are you looking at? Don’t look at me!”.
As a general rule I don’t punch girls, but if I hadn’t been distracted or noticed that it was in fact a girl, I would have kicked her right in the ovaries. Jesus Christ.
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2 comments:
They are really unpleasant little bastards aren't they.
Let the country go to hell I say... they won't deserve or appreciate it anyway.
What was your response to the little twit? Or did you have a George "jerk store" moment.
Well, its not like I could have come back 15 minutes later and punched her in the baby maker.. I just made a dismissive noise and kept walking.
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