Tabs

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

D-Baggery Witnessing on a Tuesday Evening

It was after dinner and we needed to pick up some supplies for the fur brats. The roads were fairly quiet -- even the main highway that is our only hub in and out of the suburban community we call home. We needed to switch over a lane to take the slip road East and although we signaled and started to make our way over, the truck behind us sped up, not allowing us in.

We swerved back over to our lane and as he passed us, he flipped US the bird.

Drivers take note. Rule number one of flipping someone off is to make sure they are not going to the same destination that you are speeding to.

Imagine his surprise when we walked into the pet store behind him. He nervously looked around while he waited in line. I threw him my perfected glare as we made our way over to the kittens and bunnies. He most likely thought we followed him there. I gave him another stink eye, he shuffled a little closer to the till. I looked him over, shook my head and we continued shopping.

We rounded up what we needed and reached the till as he made his way back out to the parking lot, looking over his shoulder once more at us. We made eye contact.

He jumped into his turbo fueled truck and took a swig of his drink.

And then proceeded to throw the bottle in the direction of Rainman's car. Rainman was livid as the D-bag rode off into the sunset, proud of his cowardly act.

We went to the car to make sure it was okay. The D-Bag had thrown the bottle beside our car knowing that our view would just show the general direction of his toss. The point behind it all is unclear. He didn't let us into the lane, he flipped us the bird, he happened to be going to the same place we were.

What is clear is he was a loser. And he threw his bottle of apple juice, still half full (perhaps in this negative situation it was half empty?), for a reaction. A reaction he didn't even get to witness. We had a good laugh.

Apple juice. All the rage for toddlers and the drink of choice for raging douche bags.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Bridezilla

I am pretty sure I know why a lady glowing with love and a shiny new diamond on her left hand can suddenly turn into a fiery stress ball ready to take down anyone standing in her way down the aisle.

She is inundated wit text messaging and emails and websites and pictures. And though this can be very helpful in sparking new ideas to mix with tradition, it can also be very overwhelming, especially when the bride would love to incorporate ALL of the great ideas.

She is consistently asked questions about the wedding planning. Which in turn causes the bride-to-be to seemingly only talk about her upcoming wedding. And worried that she may bore her audience if there are not any new developments. And fearful that the little details she wants to make her day unique are being dissected and judged.

She feels this incredible pressure to have the perfect wedding, look perfect in her dress, eat perfect food, dance to perfect music, send out perfect invites, perfect perfect perfect.

And so she can't go for a run without thinking about how this is good for the wedding stress. And while running she thinks about the details of her wedding. And while sipping her after-run coffee, imagines her wedding day. And starts to believe that everyone is this focused on the one day so finds herself frustrated with vendors who have other events closer in date.

She finds herself turning into that Bridezilla she claimed she would never be. Which means she is now stressing that her loved ones may not even want to attend this very important date and are distancing themselves because they are irritated with her trivial dilemmas and dramas.

Her solace is her fiance who knows exactly how to tame the Bridezilla. And her hope that people will still remember the beauty under the beast's cape.