Yeah, you. There in the Chevy Behemoth or whatever the hell it’s called. With the V-8 engine and the 800 pounds of carbon dioxide you’d be putting into the air every minute if the Behemoth were running.
You, with the cell phone glued to your ear.
Yeah, you. In the Target parking lot.
See me? Yeah, me. With the two little boys in tow, having just gone through Target to pick out a small prize for each of them for doing so well with their swimming lessons this morning. Yeah, me. Parked right next to you.
Obviously I have to get back into my Jeep, right? With my two little boys? Right. Of course I do. So I approach my Jeep and I open the door and I put Boy #1 in.
And then you start the Behemoth.
So I close the door and take Boy #2 and we move over so you can get the Behemoth out of your parking space and you can go on your merry little environmentally friendly way.
And then you do this: You roll down your window and you say, “Go ahead. I’m not going to leave until I finish this conversation.”
Um, so let me get this straight. You’re going to run your Behemoth in the Target parking lot, spewing tons of CO2 into the atmosphere, while you FINISH YOUR CONVERSATION? ARE YOU SERIOUS?
Who the hell are you talking to that you need your V-8 Bucket of Bolts running while you have the conversation? It better be your mechanic. And he better be diagnosing some problem you’re having with your vehicle, or else you’re just an idiot who apparently has such a sense of entitlement that you think it’s your God given American right to sit in the parking lot of a big box sweatshop market with your V-8 engine running while you give yourself ear cancer AND talk to whoever.
No, no – I take that back. You ARE an idiot. Remember my two kids? Yeah. You started that small tank up while I was in the middle of my “Putting Two Kids In The Jeep” procedure, which, as any parent knows, is as highly involved as any NASA procedure, guaranteed. There are kids to corral, butts to put in seats, clasps to clasp…it’s almost rocket science. And when our vehicles are parked 2 feet from each other and you start yours up while I’m in the exact middle of my PTKITJ procedure, I have to take a pause and move out of the way because I’m certain that anybody who would start their vehicle next to mine while I’m in the middle of my PTKITJ procedure has to be an idiot and, as such, is certain to pull said vehicle out of the space within a few short seconds, at which time Boy #2 might have wandered into the Behemoth’s way, thusly getting run down by a truck so big and so heavy that certainly there must be room for more than just you in it (Feel free to mix in a carpool once in a while). So I move. And you declare that you’re going to sit there and pollute all the air around the Target with your Chevy Spew (now there’s a name for a truck!) while you talk on the phone. When, really, had you been paying attention instead of talking to whoever, you would have known that I was in the middle of my PTKITJ procedure and you could have waited until I had completed it to start your Truckzilla so that I wouldn’t have to move out of your way under false pretenses. Had you waited, maybe you would have also been done with your conversation and you could have saved a few small bits of the ozone layer as well.
All this makes you an idiot. Enjoy your idiocy. I certainly have.