Last Saturday, Kamran and I were out for a pleasant jaunt around the city to enjoy what seems like it may be one of the last days of nice weather. We were crossing 42nd Street on 5th Avenue in front of the Main Library when an aging compact car rounded the corner from the left and attempted to cut in front of us before we could slow him. We were perfectly within the limits of the crosswalk sign, of course, and continued ahead as such. This clearly displeased the driver, who kept not just inching toward us but, like, feeting toward us threateningly.
We were sipping bubble tea, and I had my camera slung ’round my neck, so maybe the guy thought we were a couple of podunk tourists, but this queen bee of the city doesn’t get messed with like that, so I bored a hole in the guy straight through his windshield and said, “Hey, F*** YOU!”
Because my mama, god rest her soul, raised me to be classy.
It took him a couple of seconds to recover from these words he most assuredly had never heard come out of the mouth of such a sweet-looking lady, but then he retorted, “Same to you!” while finishing his turn and continuing down the street. I felt fine about yelling at the dude, because you get your car out of my pedestrian city, a-hole, but I was a little upset that the first thing I resort to in times of crisis is cursing. (Not that you didn’t know that.)
I first decided I should’ve yelled, “Come at me, bro!”, but then I remembered that the guy was in a car and would’ve killed me had he come at me. I asked Kamran what I should have said instead, and he suggested, “I’m going to tell your mom on you when I see her later tonight.” Which are pretty strong words from someone who enacted a rule that I can only insult his mom once a day.
Well, luckily, my friend Sarah posted this on Facebook yesterday to help me out, from Tastefully Offensive:
So next time someone attempts to plow me with his car, I’m going to look him square in his beslubbering little elf-skinned eye and yell,
15 Comments
Yeah, so I actually emailed this to my DAD, who scolds me at least once a day for my foul mouth (even though I’m 34 years old and learned at least 90 percent of my curse-word vocabulary from HIM).
I’m reasonably certain it’s going to make his week.
“Thou gorbellied clay-brained barnacle” would be better.
PLEAS
So your blog is difficult to comment on via iPhone.
Anyways, what I was trying to say was PLEASE take a video when you do this.
I’m still sticking with my tried and true “fuck you” though because any nicer just doesn’t express my anger. And I get very angry at a LOT of Shreveport drivers.
Also, I probably should have followed suit and bleeped that out. Sorry for defiling your blog with my profanity.
That is fantastic! Next time I’m driving somewhere with Sarah and feel the need to swear at my fellow driver, I will use the following f-words instead: Thou frothy fly-bitten foot-licker!
Just wait until she repeats that one at school.
You just need to pull out a ‘Hey I’m walking here!’ in your best Brooklyn accent. We don’t yell a lot in Kentucky, instead everyone is just really passive aggressive. (Like passive aggressively walking slower when the car is edging forward.)
Although I did yell at a lady when she almost hit me walking the dog. Don’t threaten my baby!
I feel you on the “swearing before you know it” problem. My go to epithet when I’m crossing the street and some jagoff encroaches is: What the FUCK?
Or the way it sounds when I say it, “taFUCK?”
Have you ever driven in New York? It’s a lot like being a pedestrian in reverse:
When you’re a pedestrian all of the drivers are dangerous, careless, selfish assholes. When you’re a driver all of the pedestrians are.
The main difference is that when you’re driving, _all_ of the other drivers are dangerous, careless, selfish assholes, whereas when you’re a pedestrian only a preponderance of
other pedestrians are.
Yeah, if I was driving in NYC, I’d be the opposite of this guy. I’d be afraid to drive ANYWHERE and end up sitting still out of fear that I’d hit a pedestrian or another car.
Oh, wait. I DID drive in NYC once, and that’s exactly what happened. I parked and made you come and get me.
John & I would like someone to create LCD displays on the back of cars to indicate displeasure. Someone cuts you off, you can respond (other than gesticulating)
I also favor written signs that you can hold up while driving and or walking. I’m actually considering having a tee shirt made that says SPEED LIMIT 30 so I can wear it on my daily walk. People like to lead foot it on my street and it makes me a little surly.
I am a curser though. Fudge just doesn’t cut it. Though it sure tastes good.
OMG! I totally have Shakespeare insults on magnets on my fridge! BEST THING EVER.
Also, flipping the bird and yelling are a great combo.
I figure one explicative per jerk is honestly as classy as it can get.
There ought to be a two f-bomb minimum, really.
:)
I really could’a used this list when some jerk road raged me yesterday.
Think I woulda chosen “Thou gorbellied flapmouthed clotpole”, instead I just went with “Ya filthy pig” after he spat out his car window at me