The Door-Dinging Dick

My daily commute from Long Beach to Irvine rather sucks most of the time which is why I leave at least an hour before my scheduled start time of 8 am. For the most part, I get there just in time to park the car, gather my things and prepare myself for another 8 hours of monotony.

But there are some days when I arrive with plenty of time to spare and it’s on those days when I park the car, recline the seat a bit and take it easy before I begin my shift.

It’s usually an uneventful and quiet time that I enjoy tremendously. I mean, it’s not like proofreading is exactly working in a steel mill or anything but I like having the time to close my eyes and chill.

Except for when that door-dinging dick parks next to me.

You see, about a month ago I was in my car just taking it easy when I heard a car pull up next to me. I continued to rest while I heard the other car’s door open and then felt a jarring THUD against my car, meaning this prick had just rammed his door into mine. I don’t know if he didn’t realize I was in there or anything but seriously, what kind of asshole do you need to be to ding someone’s car so nonchalantly and walk away?

I had the urge to confront the guy but chose not to. Karma did pay off, though, when I later discovered that he had spilled his mug of coffee in the kitchen and was not-so-happily cleaning his mess up. That’s what you get, fucker.

Thinking this really was a one-time incident, I wrote it off.

I found out today that wasn’t the case. As I was in my car this morning, the dick pulled next to me and like clockwork, got out of his car and whomped his door into again. It was raining today so the asshole was dressed in a yellow raincoat which, combined with his grey hair and matching beard, made him look much like that Gorton’s fisherman. All he needed was the hat.

Come to think of it, dude comes off as a real creepy dude with his beat-up Ford Taurus filled with See’s Candies boxes from Christmases long forgotten, newspapers, fast-food garbage and I wouldn’t be too surprised if there was a ham radio in there, either. Because that’s what Creepy Dudes do. I dare not get any closer but based on physical appearance and the car he drives, on the Creepy Dude scale his profile ranks #2 which puts him behind those fat oddball fuckers with greasy hair, dandruff, thick glasses that haven’t been cleaned in years and much like this jackass, drive a car that’s being held together with spit and string. All he needs is “FREE CANDY” spray-painted on the side of his piece of shit car and he’d be ready for action.

Immediately after he slammed his door into mine, I rolled down my window and simply said, “REALLY?” hoping to elicit a response from The Fisherman. No dice.

Once again, I had the urge to go out and ask the dude what his fuckin’ trip was since he’s done this to me more than once but being I’m a temporary employee, I chose to do the right thing by not saying anything else beyond what I already had and by deciding to park elsewhere from now on. It’ll just make things easier and protect myself from being subjected from a possible early termination which would look really bad.

So tomorrow I’ll take my chances in another part of the lot and only hope that karma will strike this moron once again.

And while I’m on the subject of the job, I was under the impression that it would last only until the end of December but here I am in January, still plugging along and still with plenty to do. Looks like I might be around a little longer than I had anticipated, and that’s a good thing.

As long as I park far, far away from the door-dinging dick.