I don’t know if you’ve ever witnessed this guy in action. I, myself, have only seen him twice.
The second time was this morning when he walked up to the teller at the bank and said, “Hey bro, no need to wave at me like that, I see you’re open, I’m on the phone! Nah, I’m just kidding.”
The first time was in a pool in Palm Springs. My mom was out there for work and I went to visit her at her hotel. The pool was full of real estate agents from all over the country. My mom was wading around by herself, next to a group of them. They were younger and cockier than the typical agent at her office, probably from LA or something.
Anyway, this one guy asked his friends where the other bar was. None of them knew, but my mom had seen it earlier and she helpfully said to him, “I think it’s to the left of the main lobby.”
He turns to her and says, “Was I talking to you?”
I’m just within earshot. My fists ball up and I’ve already decided I’m gonna come after this guy Happy Gilmore-style. Fast and friendly and since he had no shirt to pull over his head, I was figuring I would just punch him in the throat as hard as I could. Maybe try to grab him around the neck and threaten to break it if any of his 15 fratboy cronies came towards me.
As my mom mutters some sort of apology, he smiles and says, “Nah, I’m just kidding. Thanks.”
Why is this guy the supreme dipshit of all time? Because he’s the kind of hothead rapist to mouth off to a helpful 50-year old female co-worker in a pool, but without the balls to follow through.
I thought about going up to him and asking him what he would have done if I had said that to his mom and after referring to me as “bro” I’m sure he would have uttered some sort of threat, missing the point entirely.
I’m not a strong person and I could probably die if you punched me hard enough in the right places, but I really think this is the kind of thing worth dying for. This is also why I don’t carry a gun.
I seriously would have followed that guy in the bank out to the inevitable BMW 3 series he owns, pistol-whipped him and shoved the barrel of my gun into his mouth, breaking through numerous teeth. With my other hand, I would be recording this on my cell phone video camera so I could post it on Youtube and get 5 million hits.
In a perfect world, the judge would take one look at this guy and dismiss all the charges against me, instead, locking up this toolbox for 20 years.
But this isn’t a perfect world and I have only completed 4 of my 7 planned steps towards immortality, so my body is still vulnerable, though I suspect my soul is not so.
But who the hell wants to float around in the ether like that, anyway? I mean, they might come along and just replace you with Hayden Christensen 20 years later, so what’s the point?