So I'm driving in to work and what do you know: another funky piece of German engineering ahead of me. Ugh! I seriously hate these cars! Sadly, the suburb I hail from is notorious for the older models in retro colours with matching wheel-caps to boot. I've picked a burial spot for the lot, but alas, I have been unsuccessful in procuring sponsorship for my "Save the planet from the really butt-ugly box merc" campaign. So please understand my distress at being stuck in traffic behind this guy for any length of time, let alone the half an hour I was blessed with this morning.
I digress ... So checking out this "older" dude (hmmm … I’m becoming unsurprisingly cautious in my use of this word of late), I have to restrain a raucous outburst at his ridiculous attempt to hide the fact that he IS older than he would prefer to be behind silver sunnies that are way too tight. Think along the lines of John Travolta in Grease and you'll get the picture. The business suit jacket is neatly hung up on a hanger behind his seat and you just know this guy has probably never gorged on a Big Mac or other suitable meals such as spare ribs in this car. Everything about this guy screams anal ...
Nevertheless, he is sitting chatting away on his mobile (as you do in a lawless society such as the one I was born into) and suddenly carelessly flicks his cigarette butt from his window. And this is the point at which I lose my sense of humour with this particular a-hole! It is only by the sheer lack of attention seeking genes that I refrain from honking my Korean horn at the bastard and show him my prowess of international sign language.
Just proves again that you just cannot buy class!
2 comments:
Funny enough, on the way to your house yesterday we were passed by two of these monstrocities.
Aaaaw ... you got lucky this time. Or you were not paying attention!
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