WTF?

I was driving home from class yesterday. Yes, I actually do go to class. Well, I go to most classes. I go to at least sixty percent of them. Or at least sixty percent of most of them. Anyway, that’s not the fucking point.

The point here is that there are some batshit fucking crazy people in this town. And I run into them a lot. I spend a lot of time downtown where the homeless people wander. In addition to that I’m taking a class this semester where I work in the public defender’s office. At that office I am blessed enough to interview clients at the jail and the office. These people are all insane. First there was the lady who had been hopped up on meth for so long she couldn’t remember what happened; then the guy that heard voices; the guy who was unsure how many children he had and only knew five of their names; the twenty-three year old guy that already had five kids; the guy that punched some lady square in the nose; the lady who had no idea where her bruises came from; etc., etc., etc.

All batshit crazy. Because I have to deal with fucking retards everywhere I go (yes, that includes law school; goddamn does that include law school), and have subsequently gotten used to them, I have two places where I become actively angry when dealing with dumbasses: 1) at home; and 2) in my car.

When I’m driving in my car and see someone do something stupid (like hold hands with their girlfriend in public; or run the red-light because you’re too busy talking on your goddamn cell phone to notice what a cunt you’re being so that I come about three feet from T-boning you) I become pissed off. I’m not pissed off because they are annoying or retarded. I’m pissed off just because I’m sick of dealing with dumbshits.

Now, I was driving home from class yesterday when I saw someone riding their bike down the sidewalk. While that is pretty normal, the mother fucker was carrying a box fan. You read that correctly. A dude. Riding a bike. Sidewalk. Typical twenty inch box fan. Aneurysm in my head.

I was delirious. I was at a stop light and all I could do was stare at this odd combination slowly moving away from me. On top of that, I was trying to wrap my mind around why this was going on. I needed some sort of pseudo-plausible explanation as to why this man was on a bike with a box fan or I knew, even at that point, that I would never get to sleep that night; kept awake by the curse of the inexplicable dumbass on a bike. With a box fan.

I sat there and thought. I stared at him as I passed him; hoping beyond all hopes that some sort of explanation would present itself if I only paid enough attention. No such luck. No matter how hard I looked he was still nothing more than a tool riding a bike while holding a box fan.

I’d really like to get some sleep tonight so I’m dedicating the next several hours to finding some reason to ride a bike. While holding a box fan.