Some People Shouldn’t Be Allowed To Drive… Or Go Out In Public

The morning started off like every other morning on my way to work; I deal with some traffic, and the direction I decide to approach my place of work from determines if I stop some place to pick up breakfast or lunch for the day.

Today, I came from the north, which means I’m going past a grocery store. I’ll stop in and pick up something for breakfast since I packed my lunch for the day.

I turn down the road that leads to the parking lot for the grocery store. The road kind of makes a narrow S shape as it stretches along the entrances of the parking lot. The speed limit on this road is 15 mph since it winds through businesses and their various parking lots. The morning is young and I’m plenty early for work so I’m not in any rush; I’m not even going 15 mph down the road.

As I approach the first entrance to the grocery store’s parking lot, I see a car at the stop sign, waiting to exit the parking lot. I’m slowly driving toward this car and I’m watching the driver because he’s looking to his left and he has not once turned his head to look my direction. The driver then pulls out of the parking lot, right as I’m passing him, and I swerve out of the way to avoid getting hit. The driver hits his brakes and stops.

The whole thing doesn’t even bother me. I don’t yell at the guy, I don’t give him any rude gesture, and I don’t even look at him; I do nothing except keep on driving. I just go down to the next entrance to the grocery store’s parking lot, turn in, and park my car.

As I get out of my car and lock it, the old guy — in his late sixties, maybe early seventies — driving the car that almost hit me comes speeding through the parking lot in my direction. He stops his car right behind mine and rolls down his window.

Old Guy: “What the h*** is wrong you, driving down the road so fast? What’s wrong with you young punks today?”

Me: “Maybe you should learn to look both ways before pulling out of a parking lot.”

Old Guy: “How dare you talk to me like that?! You’re the stupid little punk that came flying down the road and driving like a r****d!”

Me: “Listen, old man. I’m not the one that pulled out into oncoming traffic. Leave me alone and go away.”

Old Guy: “You’re just a dumb f****** punk that thinks he owns the road—”

I’ve had enough. Since he’s continuing to speak to me like he is, gloves are off.

I cut him off midsentence:

Me: “Listen here, you c***sucker. You pulled out without looking both ways and I had to swerve to avoid you hitting me. Learn to f****** drive and shut the f*** up.”

Old Guy: “Uh… Uh… Uh… You can’t talk to me like that!”

Me: “I’ll talk to you however I want because you’re just a disrespectful, angry f***er.”

The old man didn’t say anything else, and he was so mad that he did a burnout and drove off.

I don’t have time for people that are disrespectful. Treat me like crap, you’ll get it right back. If I speak to you respectfully and you don’t reciprocate, then I won’t continue to be courteous and respectful to you.