Let's continue...
Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not opposed to driving. Considering that I'm a frontin' ass bridge n'tunnel girl, having a car comes in handy to zip into Manhattan pretending like I live there. It helps, considering on a slow day I can get to most places before any boro bitches or harlem hooligans (never again, I promise) can. My opinion of driving dramatically changes once I reach New Jersey. NJ drivers are poor excuses for road warriors. They think road rage is cool, up until you step to them. Then they cower like the NJ residents that they are. You know, the ones who only go to NYC during Christmas at Rockefeller Center but only take the bus because they're afraid of driving on city streets. Yet every summer they pack their wack ass minivans and head along the NJ Parkway to Seaside Heights, despite the fact that NJ highways produce more accidents than diaperless babies funneling breastmilk. But I digress.
While driving this past week in New Jersey, I came across two road culprits that are very typical New Jersey. I will also explain why I hate them:
The Hippie-Crit.
Yes, that bumper sticker reads "I Never Met a Tree I Didn't Like" and yes this man is driving a Jaguar. Really? First of all, why buy an $80,000 car and slap a bumper sticker on the back? This isn't a case of the perfect $400 accessories to go with your $20 dress. This is the exact opposite. This is ordering caviar and scooping it up with Pringles. I mean wtf? Were you being ironic? Did you want to prove that money didn't matter so you ruined your paint job? Is that what this is about? Let's not even get into the "going green" pledge on his car's ass. Your gas guzzling machine never met a tree it didn't like? Did it like wasting all that paper to purchase it? From money to the many many contracts and manuals (because believe me, Jaguars are pains in the ass to maintain. You can't get them repaired anywhere but Jaguar dealers. I've never had one, but I did have a pet cat once. RIP Harley.) It's just a bitch slap to society really. You don't like trees unless you are a pothead turned yuppy scum and blew 15% of your 401k on this car. Then the tree sticker makes you funny. You weren't being funny though. You were oh so serious. So welcome to my blog.
Space Hogs.
Okay look. This is one of those things that can be easily argued like "Well where else do they park?" Let me explain why this man's Hog (Harley Davidson) should be made into bacon and served to a cop. This crotch rocket was parked at a women's department store. Most men in their mid-life crises buy these pieces of metal to drive around and act like they're not fat or not uncool. Like this other guy I saw:
He can't possibly think he's cool can he? Regardless, the last thing he is using this bike for is transportation. The man above was riding through Lincoln Center in New York, so they're everywhere.
Anyway, the point is, why was a man on a motorcycle using up spaces in a parking lot at a women's department store? Aren't those things meant for "cruising?" Unless he was being a perv and wanted to pick up women outside. Optimists may say he was buying a gift for his wife. No he wasn't. His bike didn't have a special bag compartment. Maybe it was a woman? No it wasn't. No woman goes to a department store with minimal container space to carry purchases. This was a man, a greedy greedy man who chose to not only use up a girl's parking space but pull SO FAR UP that it looked like an empty space, until SUPRISE! it wasn't. Might I also add that he was parked in the second space in the lot. Some people have no hearts.
I'm renewing my MetroCard.
No comments:
Post a Comment