You almost hit me with your car as you were pulling into the Fred Meyer parking lot. So I slapped the shit out of your car, just to let you know I was there since, you know, you obviously didn’t see me. Screeching to a halt, you and your bearded, angry, tuxedo shirted self jumped out of the car and proceeded to tell my “bitchass” not to “lay hands” on your car. First of all, I was not trying to heal your car or convert it to Christ as your choice of words would imply. But that aside, what did you and your big muscles hope to accomplish that your car did not? Be big and intimidating and almost hurt someone?
But you asked me if I understood if my bitchass shouldn’t lay hands on your car. I said I understood. Then you got back into your car and bought more tuxedo shirts or protein powder or whatever. But the funny thing is, my bitchass did lay hands on your car. And your bitchass didn’t do anything about it. So thank you for teaching me a lesson. I’ll be carrying a hammer (for your taillight) and bear mace (for your facehead) the next time you decide to disrespect a pedestrian’s right of way. And I’ll teach your misogynist, corny, macho bullyass a lesson.
A true Bitchass would never resort to anything so conspicuous as a hammer. That’s much too noisy. All you need is a bottle of acetone to splash on the paint to dissolve it instantly and silently, as he continues, obliviously on his reckless, inconsiderate way.
I would suggest filling a high powered squirt gun, but I’m really not sure if the acetone wouldn’t melt the plastic.
> But that aside, what did you and your big muscles hope to accomplish that your car did not? Be big and intimidating and almost hurt someone?
Well what did YOU expect when you “slapped the shit” out of a stranger’s car? Slapping someone’s car over your fake “OMG I ALMOST DIED!” drama is straight asking for an ass whooping.
Keep. Your. Hands. Off. The. Whip.
Carry pepper spray.
“I had the right of way” could be etched into your head stone next time your dumb ass decides to jump in front of a car that can’t see you. Unless you first end up getting shot in the face for messing with a stranger.
It’s always a good idea to be ultra-confrontational, because Portland goddamned better live up to the city you saw in the brochure.
Fake
I have only one question- were there any nice dogs tied up outside?
So, you were walking in a parking lot, & this wretched human didn’t see you? That’s your complaint? Oh, & because he didn’t see you, you decided to start pounding his car & are writing to him here accusing him of misogyny for being pissed about you hitting his car.
So, he didn’t really do anything, except for get mad at you for acting like a crazy person & hitting his car. i call #evilwhiteman. He is very clearly a minion of satan.
Well, now I know to avoid nearly running over anyone who is carrying a hammer.
^^ Or make sure you score a direct hit.