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Cashew Lou's Yukon Annex

I've got Pop-Pop in the attic.

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Sometimes life is good
Ever had a situation unfold that was either uncomfortable or confrontational, and you figured out the perfect thing to say--only it was well after things had taken place? Well, sometimes the perfect words do come with the perfect timing.

After work yesterday, I needed a few things, so I stopped at a gas station near where I live to pick them up. As I pulled into a spot in front of the store section of the station, a huge blue van, moving way too quickly across the parking lot, almost rammed into me from the left.

I get out of the car to head inside, and the stringy-haired skank driving the van starts after me, screaming at the top of her voice.

"What kinda fuckin' dumbass are you? I was obviously waiting for that spot. I was waiting for that elderly lady (there was none) to pull out, and here you come like a fuckin' race car driver to get that spot. Was it that fuckin' important to you? I'm seven months fuckin' pregnant!" (Indeed she was; apparently she was able to get a pig drunk enough to climb on top of her at some point.)

This was a real work of art; sleeveless shirt barely holding her swollen belly and flabby breasts, homemade tattoos of crosses, chains and heavy metal band logos everywhere on her arms, neck--hell, everywhere visible. A tooth missing in front, and that slack-jawed, chinless look that is recognized everywhere as a sign of stellar breeding and class. Not.

She follows me through the store, ranting all the while, the other patrons of the store staring at her, shaking their heads or giving me a smile as my gaze met theirs. Thank goodness this was a gas station with a publicly-accessible bathroom; I started making a beeline for it.

So she followed me to the bathroom. Remember, a few minutes of her incessant ranting had passed by this point, and I had had a little time to formulate my response. I could have exploded back at her, or I could have played it cool. Amazingly, a calmness came over me, and I swear I am reporting this conversation as close to verbatim as I possibly can:

Me: (exasperated) What do you want? An apology?

It: Fuckin' right! You took my spot, you fuckin' dumbass! You don't fuckin' know how to drive.

Me: All right, I am sorry.

It: Goddamn right you--

Me: I am sorry you have obviously made about a thousand poor life choices that culminated in turning you into a slack-jawed, filthy-mouthed, stupid, loud skank. I am sorry that biology has allowed you to get some species of animal to breed you so you can bring yet another white trash piece of skank into the world. I am sorry you breathe. I am very, very sorry that neither God nor your mother saw fit to abort you.

I then went into the bathroom. I didn't have to go, but it was an escape. The she-thing stood outside, pounding on the bathroom door, totally enraged, cursing at the top of her voice. I heard a male voice talking to her a few seconds later, and she was led away.

I wouldn't believe this next part if someone else was telling it to me, so I will respect anyone who doesn't believe this. But as I came out of the bathroom, the lady at the checkout counter and two patrons of the store applauded me. The manager approached me and told me he had "escorted her off the premises" and had gotten her license plate number, if I wanted to have the police summoned. I told him thank you, but no, and drove home without incident--but don't think I wasn't checking my rear-view mirror for her van. She was clearly the kind of psycho to carry a gun and exact revenge.

I would be lying to say I wasn't a little shaken up about it. But there was one delicious moment when I was speaking to her where her tight, angry expression just collapsed. I hadn't raised my voice, I hadn't cursed--but I had handed her ass to her on a platter. I honestly believe she had never once in her life had her crass violence not answered by even more violence--and for a moment, she was totally unarmed and unable to respond.

All the same, if I live another eighty years, I hope to never have something like that happen again.

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Women who use pregnauncy or children as a crutch and excuse for doing whatever the please...yeah fun times.

No shortage of them around much like the dangerous elderly who are less confrontational but use thier situation or being a veteran as an excuse just the same.

Wow. You go on with your bad self!

wowie... such words... o_o;

I can't believe you can just say it without "it" cuts your line first. Totally flat tone but I know the meaning is totally sharpened for thrice. Wowieeee

That is just simply too awesome for words! :D

:O!! ^_______________^

I would have paid good money to see that. Excellent word choice! Remarkable execution! 10 out of 10! :D

Cashew Lou 1, Pregnant Slut-Bitch 0! ^.^

Wow. That's the best apology ever! You just earned mega "Cool points" LOL :D Awesome! :)

Short of setting her on fire with a lighter and a can of hairspray, I don't think that could've been handled any better. :K) I'm surprised you let her trail you so long though... I'd tend to want that conversation to occur while she's screaming at you from her window.

...On the other hand...vehicle vs. dude isn't an ideal fight. x,x

It might not be perfectly on topic, but it's certainly close enough.. I'd imagine the denizens of customers_suck would enjoy reading that, if you felt like reposting it there.

Huzzah! A round of applause for that man!

And the Russian judge gives you a 10.0!

You win the Internet for today, Lou. Well done.


I wish I coulda seen it. :)

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