The Final Installment

Ok, not this is the last of the douchey people in my life, but here’s the story behind the inspiration for The Douchebag Trilogy. See Part 1 and Part 2.

I went to grab a cup of tea at lunchtime on Monday. I was feeling very Monday and I really just wanted to get out of work for a few minutes. On my way back, I took the scenic route and enjoyed slowing down to look at the cows, goats and other farm-type creatures. As I came up to the main road, I stopped at the stop sign, as I typically do, and I observed a couple of things.

First, let me give you some setting. This road on which I’m traveling leads up to a secondary highway. It’s not a huge divided freeway or anything, but it’s a busy main road throughout most of the valley. The road which I’m turning off of is a regular residential street, but for whatever reason it splits into two sections where it meets the highway, creating a double-wide road, likely just to ease traffic when people are making left-hand turns and whatnot.

So I’m sitting at the stop sign of this double-wide street when a very, very small child and her EVEN SMALLER friend come running through the cross walk. When I say very small, I mean this kid looked to be three years old, running hand-in-hand with a two year old. I didn’t really think too much of it, as well, they’re kids, and coming up behind them looks to be a mother-type person with three other kids in tow. At the time, I didn’t judge, because kids are kids. They do stupid things, and no one got hurt.

Now, these two toddlers are on one side of the giant cross walk, and the mom-type-person is taking her sweet-jesus time getting to the other side. She hasn’t even made it 1/4 of the way across the street and I’m looking at the ZERO traffic on the highway at this point. I do some math. Unless she starts moving at about 70 km/hour in the next .5 seconds, there is no way in hell I’m going to come close to obstructing her as she continues to waddle across the road.

I pull out into the highway, but not before double checking there are no children, ducks, cats, baby goats or nasty douchebags anywhere remotely close to my car.

Then I hear it.


Seeing as how there’s no traffic, I stop.

“Excuse you?” I question.

“UM, YEAH. CROSS WALK. FUCK,” she articulates.

If we had an accurate thermometer, I’m sure we could have scientifically proven that my blood was boiling at this point.

“Excuse me? You just let two TINY children run into the street, I’m no where near even coming CLOSE to hitting you or even forcing you to slow down, then you CURSE at me in front of you kids? NICE PARENTING.”

“Gasp,” was all she managed.

I even waited for a reply. All I got was a look of disgust, a hair toss and a walk away.

I’ll even qualify this one by saying I’m not a self-righteous car-driver (most of the time). I drive out of necessity and I hate when people are asshats behind the wheel. When I lived in Toronto, I was a pedestrian who took transit all the time. I’m not saying I couldn’t have waited the three extra minutes for this Douchebag on Parade to cross the street, but you know what? I didn’t drive recklessly. I didn’t obstruct her. I didn’t let a three and two year old child dart across a main road, either. I did, however, bitch her out a bit in front of kids, which I kind of feel bad about, but she cursed at me!

I’ve been known to slam a car hood when I was walking in front of a driver who was so impatient she nudged me with her bumper. I’ve walked up to open car windows to deposit trash some inconsiderate jerkoff decides to throw out of his parked car. I think I can related to both sides of the driver/pedestrian dichotomy. I guess you could say I just do my best not to be a douchebag most of the time.

However, I’ve been thinking about this one and well, what do you think? Am I the Driver Douchebag in this scenario? Or was the Douchebag on Parade being overly douchey in a situation that didn’t warrant such douchebaggery?

Parade of Fail.


~ by Andrea on April 29, 2010.

5 Responses to “The Final Installment”

  1. I am of the very firm belief that people need to be tested before they are allowed to reproduce. Clearly, this lady would not have passed the test. She is def the douchebag in this senario.

  2. Given I now have what we call Mama Bear syndrome and become increasingly hostile and protective whenever a vehicle approaches my stroller, I may not be the best person to comment on this situation. I have been known to stop the stroller and jump in front of it if I feel a car is approaching too close to us or driving too fast for my comfort, and I’ve found that I am even more cautious behind the wheel when I see children anywhere in my vicinity. Read: slow down to an ants crawl and twist my head around like in the Exorcist to keep tabs on any and all sneaky children. I probably would have waited for everyone to cross before I proceeded for my own peace of mind. However, this mom obviously does not suffer from the same syndrome as me and should shut her pie hole. And wear a condom.

    • And that’s why I love me some Wingas.
      Like I said, it wasn’t as if I floored it in front of her and her brood of kiddies…I took my time, and seeing as how she wasn’t overly concerned about the toddlers on the opposite side of the street, I slowly, and carefully, pulled out.

      • I’m sure you were careful and I believe you did nothing wrong. I just wouldn’t have done it as I am so freakin overly cautious now. (When I have to make a left hand turn in traffic now with the twins in the back, Dingas always says ‘We’ll be here all day!’)

        Who knows, I may have stopped and let the kids hop into my supersweet minivan. We could have gone for ice cream. The pie-hole woman probably wouldn’t have noticed.

  3. Mmmm…ice cream 🙂

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