Asshole Drivers and Politics: Is There a Relation?

Over the last 5 months, I have been taking a slow tally.

I have been looking for patterns in asshole drivers.

Do you weave through traffic using no turn signal and no regard for other drivers?  Asshole.

Do you flip people off or flash your lights if someone is in your way or not going fast enough?  Asshole.

Do you speed excessively and think people going 10 over the speed limit are 'fucking slowpokes?'  Asshole.  (and by the way, the speed on freeways in Idaho is 75...)

So I've been keeping a tally of assholes.  And since it's an election year, I've been keeping a tally of who the assholes are voting for.

From June to October I have been in California, Nevada, Utah, Idaho, Montana and Wyoming.  In other words, 4 very red states, one very very blue state, and Nevada (a current battleground, but leaning left).

During that time, I have accumulated the following statistics:

- 54 traffic weavers, ducking and dodging through other cars, skimming seconds off their precious drive time.  Of the 54, 20 had Romney stickers, 8 had Obama stickers, and the rest had none.

- 28 bird-flippers.  10 of the 28 were Republicans, 2 were Democrats, and 6, while having no political stickers, had BYU logos on their cars, leading me to believe they were Republican (as I have not yet met a Mormon Democrat).  That makes 16... out of 28...

- 103 speeders.  This was a pretty even split.  30 Romnites, 31 Obama-mamas, and the rest neutral.  Hell, even I speed...

- 25 Light-flashers, or people who ride your ass because you're going too slow. 5 Red, 1 blue, the rest it was too dark to see.

Oddly enough, there were more 'Coexist' bumper stickers on the ass-riding jerks than Republican stickers...

Coexist my hairy white-ass....

So.  5 months, 210 offenders.  71 confirmed Republican, 42 confirmed Democrat.  34% Red, 20% Blue.

In summary?

...you know... in theory...

The Best $10 I Have Ever Spent

When I was a kid, this was simply called 'being an asshole.'  Today it is referred to as 'trolling.'

Either way, this is hilarious, and I have to share this story with you.

I spend a lot of time on the road, and have found a love with Buffalo Wild Wings.  I can get a good cheap lunch/dinner there, and the atmosphere is fun.

I probably spend about 2-3 nights a month at various Buffalo Wild Wings locations in Montana and Idaho.

One of the fun aspects of BWW is the fact they have a jukebox.  At any time, you can go to the jukebox and change the house music to any tune you like, as long as it is on the playlist.

This day, I was bored and none of the sports channels were catching my eye.  The place was packed:  Girls' Night Out group, a table full of Air Force dudes in camo, and families all over the place.

I decided to people watch, and use the jukebox as my wingman.

The cost is $1 per song, and I put in a ten dollar bill.  The first song I picked was a bar standard, something current and 'pop-ish,' so nobody would notice what I was doing.

I found Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' and selected it.  Over and over.

The first time it came on, the Girls' Night group let out a "WOOOOO!!!" and danced at their table.  Nobody else really paid attention.

The second time it came on, a few people giggled.  Maybe this was a glitch...

The third time it came on, people started to groan and grumble.

By the 5th 'Single Ladies' in a row, the natives were getting restless.

When Aerosmith's 'Love in an Elevator' came on, there was a collective sigh of relief from the restaurant.  Some people clapped.  The vein in one Airman's forehead went back down.  People began eating in peace again.

But remember:  Intro song, Single Ladies x5, and Aerosmith.  That's only 7 songs...

...I spent $10...

ALL THE SINGLE LADIES, ALL THE SINGLE LADIES!

ALL THE SINGLE LADIES, ALL THE SINGLE LADIES!

ALL THE SINGLE LADIES, ALL THE SINGLE LADIES!

When Steven Tyler faded out and Beyonce came back with a vengeance, people flipped.

The ladies groaned.

One of the Airmen shouted "OH COME ON!!"

For every one person laughing, there were about 20 people genuinely upset.

And me?  I have a poker face.  I'm just watching, and enjoying the fun social experiment.

Sadly, some of my $10 was wasted, as a manager finally intervened and bypassed the jukebox.  I really didn't mind, since I definitely got my money's worth.

(Sidenote:  I was tempted to use Justin Bieber's 'Baby,' but come on... I'm not THAT big of an asshole!)

(Side sidenote:  I guess I'm not retired yet, here comes Dude Write 11!)

Observations: Tales from the Laundromat

For a brief period, I didn't have a working dryer.  Because of budgeting and aggressively trying to catch up on debts, I didn't have enough money to immediately replace it.  This meant trips to the laundromat, and lots of blog fodder.

Laundromats are always awkward, especially for guys.  When I'm home, I usually do laundry at the last minute, meaning I'm wandering around the house in boxer-briefs while folding clothes.

For some reason, they don't let you do that in public anymore... but you know what?  In Eastern Idaho, that's a good thing.  I don't know what's in the water, but there are 25 ugly people in this town for every one "7" or above...

To avoid the crowds, I went at 8am on a Saturday.  I painfully put a $20 in the change machine, and started to do my thing.

At the time, there was only one family in the laundromat with me:  A mother and her two teenage daughters.  The trio were a sight to behold.  Mom was in thin workout pants that showed off her gigantic striped granny panties underneath, and the daughters weren't any better.

Mom would constantly yell to them about this and that, then run to the truck for a smoke.  When mom was away, the girls would play...

Dem shoes...

They would race in carts, or sit on top of washers during the spin cycle ("this unbalanced load feels gooooooooood....")

I snapped a few pictures, but sadly wasn't paying attention when the cart tipped and one girl took a header onto the floor.

She was ok, but really embarrassed.  They were quiet the rest of the trip.

Mom, with the striped double-wide, flirted with all the male laundry-goers that walked in.  She was a scary looking beast, but the guys were too, so of course they hit it off.

Other patrons would rock in the chairs, singing incoherently to themselves.  The token 'stare-mesmerized-into-the-dryer-for-a-long-period-of-time' dude was here, as were the 'I'm-going-to-camp-out-in-front-of-the-washer-so-nobody-can-steal-my-undies' people.

And, of course, the children.  After all, this isn't a laundromat, this is a playground...  I especially loved the mom who brought in toys for their kids.  Not toys like coloring books or blocks.  I'm talking BIG WHEELS and a scooter.  The world is your obstacle course, kid, and I'm only one more thing to drive around/over...

So maybe Saturday wasn't the best day to do this...

As the place got more and more crowded, people started fighting for machines.  Luckily my clothes were all in dryers at this point, so I didn't have to play the territorial game.  As my clothes neared completion, people started arguing over who called dibs on my dryer.  As they were fighting and getting ready to pounce, I turned into an ass.

I put a few more quarters in, just to "make sure everything was dry" and to make them wait a few more minutes.

That, and so I could stare at the ugliest feet I've ever seen, to try and understand why someone would do this to themselves...

Mismatched socks, beat-up sheep slippers that looked older than me, and it didn't go with the rest of what she was wearing.  It made no sense.

Then again, it's laundry day.  Throw on your leftovers, so you can clean everything else...

Observations: Post Office Hell

I mailed my boys their Easter cards yesterday.  My wonderful, talented girlfriend handmade two amazing cards, and I know they will love it.


But since the envelopes were a little thicker and heavier than the norm, it meant a trip to the post office.

It's been a while since I've gone to the post office, but I still know my way around.  Unlike most younger adults these days, I had penpals when I was growing up, so I am used to mailing letters.


This day in the post office, there seemed to be two main types of people.  Younger 'kids' who don't know JACK about mailing a letter or parcel, and women over 150.  Talk about polarization.


I had an old lady in front of me, and an old lady behind me.  Both had that fanTASTIC old-lady-perfume smell goin on.  Different scents, same basic 'granny' smell.  You know, cheap roses?  It was like gag-fest 2011.  In stereo.


The geezer in front of me was about 4 feet tall, and had about a 4 foot stack of mail needing to be sent out.  When you see this, and only one person helping customers, you get a lump in your stomach.  This is going to take a while.


But she wasn't the real problem.  It was the lady behind me.

I swear, she looked exactly like this!

This 500lb mouth-breathing sea hag, for some reason, decided that she needed to be 6 inches from the back of my neck.  Granted, the line was a long one, but you can allow a little bit of breathing room between people.

And when I say breathing room, I mean stop mouth-breathing on the back of my neck.  First off, you sound like a congested Darth Vader.  Second, you're melting the little hairs on the back of my neck with your hot, rancid 'I just ate a WHOLE BAG of Funyuns' breath.

Ahead of me and the geriatrics were a handful of teenagers and early 20-somethings trying to figure out how a post office works.

Hey.  Kids.  Know what this is?  They didn't...

We are now in the age of instant gratification.  People these days don't seem to understand that mail takes a few days to travel from one end of the country to the other.  And if you want it there super-fast, you're going to have to pay for it.  Things like 'Priority Mail, Certified, Insured, Return Receipt' were like speaking gibberish to people.  And when you mentioned these services would cost extra, people flip.

Cmon, this isn't like checking a box on the email, letting you know when the recipient read your letter.  It's a little more complicated than that.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE CAN!!!

Lastly was a dude, probably about 17, who didn't have a clue about cell phone etiquette.  He enters an enclosed, metal building, full of people.  His reception gets fuzzy.  What do?  I know!  SHOUT!

"HEY, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"IS THIS BETTER?"

"WHAT ABOUT NOW?"

"OH THERE YOU ARE.  OK, AS I WAS SAYING..."

Everyone wanted this guy dead.  The air was getting thicker, filling with murderous intent, when it was finally my turn.

No surprise, but I did what I had to do, and got out of there as quickly as possible.

Observations: The Coffee Culture

I am writing this from one of the few good places in town to get coffee.

This place is called The Villa.  It's an independently owned coffee shop in the middle of downtown.  We have a couple of Starbucks in town, and another coffee shop inside a Music/Rental shop, but this place has the best coffee at the best price.

Now, every town I have ever lived in had different types of groups at each coffee shop.  This one would be the hipster hangout, and that one would be where all the older folks went.  Because the choices in this town are so limited, EVERYONE comes to The Villa.

Which makes this place perfect for me to set up camp and type.  PEOPLE-WATCHING TIME!!!

As you can guess.  Coffee + Wi-fi = Great place to hang out and bring your laptop.  There is no shortage of computers here.

We have one gentleman in his late 20's who has had too many refills on his latte and is practically shaking his laptop to death.  It's still early, I wonder if he has had breakfast?  The way he is jittering, his breakfast was a double-mocha espresso and a line of coke...

Another guy, slightly younger, has set himself up in the corner, with his back to a wall.  He doesn't want ANYONE to see his screen, and when people walk by he always stops what he's doing and looks at them nervously.  I smell a porn-surfer.  The bad news for him, though, is that he is kind of on the pathway to the restroom, so he gets interrupted a lot by walkers-by.  It's really hard to jerk off when you have so many interruptions.  Poor dude.

And of course, we have the hipsters.  No cool coffee shop is a true establishment without a population of hipsters hanging out.

I'm hip!  I'm with it!  I'm groovy like a movie!  Flavor-flav!!!

My favorite is the Old Hipster, who is sitting at the bar, flipping through his iPad, and trying to fit in with the scene.  Never mind he is in his 40's, and trying way too hard.  I mean, if you looked up the term 'hipster' in wikipedia, and you tried to copy the description to perfection, you'd be this guy.

I have seen him try to strike up conversations with kids 15 years younger than him, trying to 'get in with the cool kids' and fail miserably.  Over and over.  And over.

Another older gent, leaning back in his chair and just observing everyone with a sense of authority.  It's like he's the hall monitor, and his job is to make sure noone gets too loud or out of place.  He's glared once or twice at the 20-somethings who are doing what sounds-to-be Nursing school homework.  Apparently study groups aren't allowed in his den.

He's sipped that cup about 164 times in the last 5 minutes.  How is there still coffee in there?  Or is it all just an act?

Is there a portal at the bottom of the cup, with the Coffee Dimension on the other side?  Millions of java-beans worshiping him as their God, and sacrificing themselves to keep their sipping, glaring deity happy?

This girl is my absolute favorite.  I was surprised to find this picture online, because it fit her so damn well.  Glasses with no lenses in them, just to look cool.  Knit stocking cap and a huge puffy scarf on, and talking to her friend.  If only she really had the mustache coffee cup I would totally laugh my ass off.  They're across the room from me, so I really can't hear the conversation really well, but whenever scarf girl gets excited it's:

"I KNOW, RIGHT?"

"THAT'S TOOOOOOTALLY TRUE!"

"CHA!  I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE SAID THAT!"

She has been glared at by the Super Sipper so many times I'm surprised she hasn't given him whiplash.

But there he sits, sip sip sip...

Don't fuck with the Coffee Police, missy...

Time for me to jet.  Since I'm not a part of any of the social circles in this habitat, it's time for me to escape before this place goes any more primal.  Until next time!

Oh, and by the way, I ordered tea.  Ha-HA!!

Observations: The Library Computer Lab

So I have been spending a lot of time at the local library, because I have been catching up on my reading.  I am also new to the blogging scene, and enjoy looking up material to help 'hone my craft.'

Every now and then, I decide to wander and observe the library-dwellers in their natural habitat.

The computer lab, in my opinion, is the most entertaining.

First off, it smells like a combination of cheese, feet, cigarette smoke and despair.  There are 4 rows of computers, about 10 machines deep.  You can be on the 'outside' area, where essentially noone can see you from behind, or you can be on the 'inside' area, where you are back to back with other users, and people in other rows can peek at your screens.

I decided one day to sit down, surf the net a little, and spend some time being nosy.

For one, there are a lot of kids there.  Teens and tweens, getting acclimated to the intertubes, and looking at Justin Bieber fansites or pokemon forums.  They usually travel in packs, sit next to each other, and talk (somewhat loudly) to each other about how they just found THE COOLEST THING EVER!!

 

Not that a good LOL is a bad thing, but when Nazi-Librarians SHOOSH you at every chance they get, it becomes annoying.

I stared at one guy for about two minutes.  He was in this "deep thought" pose, not clicking or scrolling at all.  I couldn't look close enough, but I'm not even sure his eyes were moving like he was reading.  Just staring... glaring... like he challenged the whole internet to a stare-down, and was determined to win.

The most amusing person was directly across from me.  Our screens were back-to-back, so I couldn't see what she was doing, or even her face, but the noises spoke for themselves.  One minute, she was sniffling and typing away, letting out a dramatic *sob* every few seconds, and then....

 

*TYPPITY TYPPITY TYPPITY* she goes, clacking and smacking the keyboard with her mad-80wpm-skillz, fuming with rage and pissed at whomever was making her cry in the first place.

A few screens that I could peek at made me grin.  Older ladies on 'speed dating' sites, where their profile picture was a woman at least 20 years younger and a whole lot hotter.  Man, if she ever finds a date on that site, the dude is in for some SERIOUS surprises...

There were also a few of the 'angry redneck' types, reading news articles and blaming Obama for the Egypt crisis, the Chicago blizzard, the Bears not making the Super Bowl, and Charlie Sheen's drug problems.  Again, they travel in packs, sit next to each other, and point out different websites to share and gripe about.

MOAR SHOOSHING FROM THE LIBRARIAN!!!

One guy never clicked.  Never typed.  Just scrolled and scrolled.  I know search engines like Bing and Google have ways of just scrolling through results now (especially image results).  Maybe he was looking at dirty pictures?  Maybe naughty shooshing librarians?  I dunno...

A bad thing about comp time at the library is you get 60 minutes and you're done.  I could people-watch all day, but I was shooshed away after an hour.