The Grumpster
"You weren't going to leave that right there, were you?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah, I mean no," he said, walking back a few steps, reaching down to pick it up. He didn't look mentally incapacitated and appeared like he should know better.
As I walked past a bit, he called out sarcastically, "Thanks, dude!" Really? You're giving me grief because you didn't want to hold on to that giant cup 1/2 block to the next trash can?
Late night a few nights ago I was walking past Staples Center. A girl was sitting on top of a long row of steps that run parallel to the street, about 20 steps high. As I walked past, she took her fast food bag of trash and launched it in the air to the steps at the bottom.
"Pick that up right now!" I yelled, sounding amazingly like my long-dead father. She replied by taking her drink and throwing it after the bag of trash. I kept walking, yelling into the night air, "Pick it up! Pick it up!" The street was empty at that hour so I was just venting to the void.
Yesterday I was walking past a parking garage when a guy in an expensive white sports car pulled out into the sidewalk really fast without checking for pedestrians. It's a busy sidewalk downtown, and he could have easily hit someone. I've seen it a few times.
He cut right in front of me, but I saw what was happening out of the corner of my eye, so I smoothly stepped out to walk around in front of his car as he came to a stop blocking the sidewalk.
I admit what I did next was not cool. As I walked around, I pulled my phone out and pretended I got a call. I stood in front of his car totally oblivious. He leaned on the horn and I just put my index finger up like "wait a sec, almost done with this call."
Bad, right?
It sure was fun.
Stop by Paul's Pub - my little hangout on Facebook.
- Jack Trout