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Its Too Small A World To Have A Bumper Sticker On Your Car before/after
A few weeks or so ago I went to the Rhino Room with C.J.
As we walk in, we pass a guy in a heated discussion with what appears to be his girl. Apologizing, raging, explaining, clearly having his balls broke by some sort of psycho.
We go in, have a decent time, and come out about two hours later.
We pass the SAME GUY, wrapping up his conversation.
me(fucked up):"Damn, man...Cheers, you know?"
And I tipped the beer with which I walked out of the bar in a salute.
he (still pissed):"In two years, she'll be my wife."
The thought occurred to me that this was a prime set up for failure and an excruciating life. Poor guy.
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Fast forward a week.
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So I'm behind this car in traffic, and this car is driving like a weasel on speed.
Erratic as hell, eventually the sheer amount of traffic has him boxed into his spot in the lane.
I don't think it was intentional.
And this guy, this old-assed, light blue, subaru wagon owning fucker has bumperstickers all over the back of his Subaru POS/BOA (Pile Of Shit/ Bag Of Ass)
To start with, bumperstickers are plain dumb. Think about it. Depending on size and location, the moment you stick a bumpersticker on your car,, you are basically pissing away 500 to 1500 dollars in equity, for the priceless joy of being branded the "Beam me up Scotty, this planet sucks!" guy.
And who wants to be known as that guy ten years from now?
Well, apparently quite a few people across the nation.
So this guy has a few stickers pasted haphazardly across the back of his car...in the window, on the bumper panel. Fucking all over like a freak.
I can only make out two, as the rest are faded out.
One says, "I miss my ex-girlfriend...BUT MY AIM IS IMPROVING!"
The other says, "Don't Taunt Dragons, never forget that you taste crunchy and good with ketchup."
wtf?
So I immediately think, "TOOL!", and forget about it, after deciding this was a guy who should've left Dungeons and Dragons alone back when he entered puberty.
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Fast Forward another week.
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Back at the Rhino Room, I parked in the same spot again, where the guy was arguing (wooing? wtf?) with his girl for two hours on a saturday night.
And I saw that same fucking light blue, shitty-as-hell Subaru wagon with those moronic stickers.
It belongs to That Guy. Because I saw him climb into it with a friend after I went back to get my pot, money, and smokes, which I forgot to take into the bar.
It all makes sense now.
Poor fucker.
Just shoot yourself, man. Its all downhill from now until the end of your life. You've peaked.
Leave with a shred of dignity.
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Profile: stuggling to make ends meet, from a poor family, poor job prospects, no degree but a little ambition combined with social awkwardness, girlfriend likely out of the area, she is conflicted about her feelings for him, likely is fucking someone else, but doesn't know how to tell him, hates his car and his friends, will not move to be with him for all of the above mentioned reasons, yet will not tell him the truth as to why, and he lives in a raging denial, unable to accept what is really happening, caught in a web of deceit that will Go Nowhere until the truth finally comes out, plunging him in a downward spiral of self-loathing and confusion, only to be ended by a drinking binge and plunging off a mountain cliff in his shitty-assed light blue subaru. Also of note: Likely did not have sex until his twenties, and has only rudimentary sexual knowledge. Doggie-style sex is paramount for him,the height of his experience, the control/in charge/ dominant feeling does it for him, but he hardly ever gets it because he's spineless and sub-ordinate in almost all of his interpersonal relationships except for his best friend that he displaces all his frustrations onto in a classical display of insecurity. Likely has a lot of repressed anger. Of course, I could be wrong.
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