SAVING US ALL FROM THE STICK

Sitting outside on a perfect evening while sipping a few adult beverages, it's hard not to people-watch as the world goes by.  A small group of us are having a cold one (or two or three) on the front lawn, chatting with people and saying hello to their dogs, while generally having a lovely time.

Until the Escalade. 

An older woman wearing orthotic shoes, white knit slacks, and a flower polyester shirt shuffles out of the Cadillac monster.  Parking it takes up a space and a half as it is, and the woman carefully shuts the heavy door of the $75,000 vehicle.  So far, nothing seems amiss.  She is probably parking to get a coffee at the swanky java joint that is directly across from Dunkins.  Yes, she looks like a hoity-toity espresso type; I'm much more iced caramel swirl.

(Twiggy -- Yes, I brought it home with me.)

Suddenly, the old lady leans over, picks up a twig from the street, and whips it with disgust onto the lawn.  Honestly, it's as if she is totally freaked by the fact that a twig in the street might possibly cause severe damage to her $5,000 tires.  After all, when one drives a giant SUV, one should probably be careful of a stick the size of which wouldn't cause harm to a roller skate.

We chat about the scene, laughing at the old woman's behavior, and no one else gives it a second thought.  No one, of course, except for me.

I wait until I see the old lady shuffle back to the Caddy.  As she is attempting to hoist her fat ass back into the driver's seat, I pick up the twig from the lawn, run in front of her, then cross the street, yelling, "It's okay!  I got the stick!  Really!  You can drive now!  Nothing will happen.  YOU'RE SAFE!  You're safe!  We are all safe!  I GOT THE STICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

It's worth a laugh, but truly it's not funny.  What kind of bitch picks up a twig off the street and throws it onto someone's property?  It isn't a branch, for chrissakes.  It's a damn twig.  It's about the length of a chopstick and the width of a toothpick.  The Caddy was in no real danger.  I swear to it.

Look, kids, sometimes I exaggerate for effect, and sometimes I exaggerate because I can.  This story is the pathetic truth. If you park like an asshole in your giant asshole-mobile and throw sticks around like you're a total dickhead-asshole, expect me to give you the public asshole-shaming you deserve.