You know those entitled old feckers? The ones who push in the lines at post-offices “because you need to learn to respect your elders!”; the ones who call you a child abuser if you smack your toddler or tut about how useless you are if you try and reason with them; the ones who get to the till, watch the cashier scan their groceries, refuse to bag them so the poor cashier has to do it, then – and only then – get out their little change purses and offer to pay in pennies counted individually; you know those ones? We’ve all met them, I’m sure. Well yesterday, I met their king.
I was outside my friend’s house, waving her mother off after a 3 day visit. You know how that goes, you end up stepping onto the road a little as your enthusiasm takes over. I was perhaps 8 inches from the kerb and I’d been there approximately 3 seconds when Entitled Old Fart drove up and decided he wanted THAT SPACE! THE ONE I WAS STANDING IN! AND NONE OF THE OTHERS VISIBLE ON THIS STREET ALONE! YOU BRAT SHOW SOME RESPECT FOR YOUR ELDERS!
So, naturally he would have pulled up, beeped his horn, rolled down his window and shouted at me to get out of his way, what did I think I was doing standing slightly the road waving like a loon anyway?
Except no. He looked me in the eye and quite deliberately and with malice RAN ME DOWN. He obviously thought he could bully me with his car until I moved, and I did step back onto one foot in shock, but that is all I had time to do when he hit me.
He was going slowly, I didn’t get hurt really, and his face when he realised his bully boy tactics had failed was a picture, but still. HE HIT ME WITH HIS FECKING CAR! Unbelievable.
Bet you can’t top that!
DISCLAIMER: I have no prejudice against Entitled Old People in general. In fact I fully intend to be one, one day. I shall pinch the cheeks of overly groomed teenagers and tell them they are wearing too much makeup and pinch the bum cheeks of the lads and then cackle madly. I’m quite looking forward to it…