I had a show in Virginia last week. It went very well, sold out crowd plus a few extra to test the fire code. Of course, no one really bought anything afterwards, I guess I can blame Obama or Bush or climate change or something, I know it wasn’t my act. One guy wanted the headliner’s DVD and no one had any change…except for this guy! I took advantage of the situation and sold one DVD because this boy scout is always prepared. Of course at some point later in the week, I pulled my phone out and apparently dragged $32 out also, which some lucky asshole found on the ground. There’s the Coen luck I was expecting.
The real fireworks was the next day. I was getting gas in the morning when a woman pulled in on the other side of the pumps. She decided to pass both of those, even though her gas cap was on the driver’s side. She then turned around and pointed at me. I topped off, then sat in my car and hit the “Take Me Home” on my GPS. In the three seconds that took, she honked at me and I saw this maniac yelling at me…with two kids in the car. Apparently, she couldn’t fit in the space in front of me. I screamed an obscenity at her and backed up a few feet, waiting on the GPS to load. Then she laid on the horn and lobbed several F bombs my way.
At this point, I realized woman had to have MY pump, the other three she passed weren’t good enough. I squealed my tires and gave her the double hand shrug, as in “Is that what you want, nutty?” She then went inside and cussed out the attendant because her card didn’t work. I was ready to walk up and tell her she should have someone else watch her kids until her menopause had run its course or her prescription got refilled. Then I looked at her kids and I felt the strange feeling some call restraint. I stopped. What is this feeling? How did my brain develop this skill, unknown to me since puberty? Now I’m sad. I need to dip my hands in broken glass and cage fight a stranger to get my edge back. Or carry an emergency fifth of Beam to use when I need a boost of redneck.