PARKING LIKE AN A-HOLE

I would like to say that not many things piss me off, but I would totally be lying.  Damn near everything pisses me off.  Take today, for example.

The movers broke one of my only bookcases at school.  I think I can fix it, but I need a special piece of hardware, something a store clerk calls a pilaster shelf clip.  Of course, I don't get this information (the name of the thing I need) until I'm in store #5, the smallest and least likely of the stores I've searched.  I find a bag of the clips, along with nails I don't need, and buy the whole kit and kaboodle.

This may sound like the whole story, but that would be wrong.  One of the stores I search for these clips is Home Depot.  I mean, surely Home Depot will have it; they have everything.  They have the Goop glue I needed to repair my kayak, for crying out loud.  Four store clerks and as many aisles later, I am told that the clips I am searching for are too old to be used anymore, according to the HD employees.  Of course, they are stupid and don't know shit, so I go somewhere else.

I am already annoyed and damn near back into someone who is coming out of Home Depot with lumber balanced on a shopping carriage.  A fucking shopping carriage?!  Really?  Dude, use one of the rolling metal pallets.  Don't be a complete and total fuckstick.  I can't see you with your damn two-by-fours piled up and stretching off both ends of a fucking shopping carriage.  Moron.

At the next store, I decide to park in a pull-through spot so I don't accidentally wipe out any more shoppers.  I choose a spot six or seven away from the rest of the traffic, and I am the only car parked out in No Man's Land.  I shop quickly, only getting a couple of small things I need once I determine that the store does not have the damn clips.  I head out to my car a whole fifteen minutes after I left it, and it is still parked in No Man's Land, but it has company.

Yup, company.  Really close company.  Some asshole mini-van driver parked his/her "soccer mom car" next to my car.  Right next to my car.  Unreasonably close to my car.  Yet the rest of the entire fucking parking lot is wide frigging OPEN.

There are a few people milling around the lot on their way in to Staples and such, and these people hear my tirade.  I swear a few times, yell out, "Really?  REALLY?!?!" then add some choice words about what a fucking asshole this driver must be.

After I get into my car, I decide to step back out again.  Bullshit.  I'm taking a picture.  Really, I think to myself, this is blog-worthy.  

 So, kids, because some idiot movers aren't careful with my belongings at school (what a surprise), I must go on a Pilaster Shelf Clip Quest.  Because I must go on a Pilaster Shelf Clip Quest, I almost back into a man masquerading as someone who knows what he's doing (and failing miserably) with two-by-fours.  Because I almost back into a man masquerading as someone who knows what he's doing with two-by-fours, I park way, way, waaaaaaay out in the next lot.

Because I park, way, way,  waaaaaaay out in the next lot, some fucker in a mini van tries to prevent me from getting into my car to leave.  But, don't worry, Asshole Parker, it's your lucky day because not much pisses me off, dude, not much.

Except for everything.  Everything pisses me off.

On second thought, RUN.