I hate Martha Stewart. I've said time and time again that she's the only woman on planet Earth that I would punch. Maybe it's her deep voice, overly-masculine vibe, or the fact that she's famous for doing arts and crafts on TV so that lazy, obese people can sit around watching her do arts and crafts.
She did go to jail though. Funny stuff.
THIS JUST IN: I've just added someone new to the list of women I would punch.
Now, before I begin, I do realize that this blog is going to make me very unpopular with most of the universe. Punching women is not funny, and I would never actually do it, but I think it's so funny to talk about in this scenerio that I have no qualms about putting it out there. I was raised on good morals and won't ever be accused of domestic violence. (end legal red tape here)
First, allow me to introduce some interesting backstory in order to make my final punchline even funnier...
This story takes place in my car.
I've always had this thing about turning right during a red light. In most cases, it is completely legal to do so, and in Orlando it could totally get you killed, so when this situation arises I prefer to look at the situation and proceed with caution. If I do not feel safe turning right while the light is red, I will not.
For some reason though, people will waste no time in honking at you if they see the area as clear even though they are six cars back. Do not force me to go when I am not ready. I will make poor judgments and harm myself or others. Wow, it's almost like I'm a good driver, right?
A few days ago I was introduced to a new experience that I found to be equally annoying to the situation I just described. I was sitting in my tan 1994 Geo Prizm (AKA - The Broke White Boy Car) waiting in the left turn lane. While I waited, I did what I always do and gazed into my rear-view mirror in an attempt to spy on the person behind me and possibly catch them doing something silly. The woman behind me looked to be middle-aged and was perched behind the wheel of a blue Dodge Caravan. Come to think of it, she kind of looked like a soccer mom. And not the good kind of soccer mom. The kind where she's on the sidelines yelling at her child and punching out referees who make poor calls that she doesn't agree with.
I refocused on the the road, wondering why the light had not turned.
Now, once in a while with lights in Orlando, they take a while to turn green and sometimes your mind goes other places while you're waiting. If you're first in line at a light, you had better not drift off because you have about 10 people behind you just waiting to be somewhere very very important and they will honk if it takes you more than 15 seconds to begin moving. When I'm first in line at a turn light I become completely paranoid of this occuring so I focus on the light. I become one with the light. I know that as soon as I see green, I'm going for it!
At this particular light, I was first in line. FInally, after what seems like months the light turns green and I move my foot to the gas pedal. Keep in mind this light has not been green for more than a 3 seconds. Suddenly, from behind me, the soccer mom begins to lay on her horn. I glance into my rear-view mirror and watch in horror as she slams on her horn repeatedly while foaming at the mouth. Actually, she wasn't foaming at the mouth. When I say "foaming at the mouth" I really mean "being a complete bitch."
So what do I do?
I don't go anywhere.
The honking gets louder and I... well, I just don't care.
She may as well have been honking while the light was still red.
So, to the lady in the blue Dodge Caravan: Screw you.
If I see you again, I'll probably punch you.
You couldn't wait 5 seconds for me to put my foot on the gas.
You gave me 3 seconds.
And now I hate you.
Enjoy your kids soccer game. I hope his team loses tonight.