Some Peoples Kids

In many of my past blog topics I have had common run-ins with children who clearly don't give a F*&k about their safety or their surroundings.

Today, in the episode of shopping for birthday gifts for my father, I was aimlessly wandering around Best Buy gawking at things I want but can't afford.

Me Gawking at things I can't afford

Illustrations all done by yours truly.

So as I am walking around the store shopping more for me then my dad. I stumble into the Video Game section. Now with game already in hand I am side stepping people playing the demo games in the aisles. Reading the game box fairly intensely I look up and clear  myself for the tactical movement to the next section and coming around the corner I feel something is not right as I go face first into the floor, things in my hands go crashing everywhere and now I am the center of attention in the entire store.

Apparently there was a little fat child sitting on the floor in the middle of the walking path playing the Wii (and everyone hates the Wii). He must have felt it necessary to plop his fat ass down there while mommy and daddy go shop. Now that I no long have any items in my hands and i'm tangled up in Wii controller cords I look at him and he has the nerve to tell the adult that he just closed lined "You made me die dumbass!!!" 

Knowing that mommy and daddy must be around somewhere and now are probably rolling toward me to protect their offspring, that I have now personally harmed by messing up his video game. I quickly untangle myself and gather my items from the floor and move on without saying a word.

Moments later I make a loop and circle back for round two.

Yup he is still intensely involved by Donkey Kong Wii. Go figure. I move on and continue my shopping.

After I check out (in case you read this...Sorry dad I didn't get you anything at Best Buy) I swing back around for pass number three. Said child's parents are there and from a quick ninja maneuver behind the parents out of the boys sight I hear "Did that mean man hurt you? Did he mess up your game?" After hearing that I quickly dive into the next aisle and B-Line for the exit thinking that these crazy people are going to call Best Buy Secret Police on my or something.

Once outside I just can't help but thinking. What is this world coming to when you let your kid play video games and trip people, then immediately think that the person being tripped is at fault because he made your son loose his video game.

Either way, It is gonna be a funny story to tell at the next social gathering I attend.

Some Peoples Kids...

Pedestrians Verse Paige the Mustang

In two occurrences today I was faced with the option of killing people with my car like pins in a bowling alley. Both around campus, so go figure that college students are retarded. Yet in both cases their were parents directly involved.

Case one:
Sitting at the Red Light on the corner of Mountain and Speedway. I am going east bound on Speedway and the light is red. When the East/West light is red, the North/South light is green. This allows people to walk across the street with the flow of traffic.

This intersection is incredibly dangerous. There are at least two accidents a month. One of those two is fatal. In the most recent a girl was pinned up against one of the buildings on the corner. First responders attempted to back the car off of her but that only pulled her legs farther away from the rest of the body. Ultimately she died in the hospital a day later. Most all accidents at this intersection have similar gruesome stories. Earlier that same day there was a different person hit and was also put in the hospital.

With the high mortality rate at this intersection established we move back to my story.

So sitting at the light you can see the cross traffic light change colors. When it changes to yellow I direct attention back towards where I want to go. As the light turns yellow I see two dumbass kids start running across the intersection. Light is switches to green and no one moves because everyone realizes the problem with this scene. Said children, who are clearly mentally retarded, stop at the island in the middle of the road. (3 lanes East/3 lanes West with a cement island thing in the middle that people can stand on if they don't make it all the way across) I am in the middle lane and take off pacing the Ford Explorer who is in the lane closest to the median. Slowly we make our way across the intersection and right as we get half way through these to kids sprint out into the road. The first kid didn't do so hot at real life frogger. Bouncing off the front end of the Explorer (which was MAYBE going about 10mph) he fell flat on his ass. Second child (girl) split between the Explorer and I is a foot gap and she was lucky enough to split it perfectly. After we all stop and realize that everyone is ok I get back in my car and take off. I personally didn't hit anyone and therefore I personally do not care. Life's tuff kid. You just learned it earlier, way to be smarter then the rest of your class.

Case Number Two (2):
Background information is required as always.
Students around campus think think they are king shit "Lion O, Lord of the ThunderCats, Ruler over Third Earth and all that it contains" "Red Ranger, Leader of the Time Force Power Rangers, saver of common citizens in danger of massive villains"

A Common Mind Set:
I will cross this highway without looking while drinking a coffee and texting with my headphones in.
"Don't worry bro, all these cars going 45 will slam on their brakes and instantly stop, on a dime, to allow your super special magical ass to prance across the road.

This is all the while NEVER IN A DAM CROSSWALK!!!

Driving down the street I see 3 people, 2 old ladies and one kid, caring a bunch of dorm stuff. Walking towards the road from the the parking lot. I have the right of way since there is no cross walk. I surprisingly stop depressing the gas petal to the floor to actually give them the chance to make the first move and walk across the road. All of them decide to stop and stare at me. I proceed to continue to close the distance between me and them. at the 15 foot mark the student of the bunch thinks now is a perfect time to walk across the street. going all of 7mph (it is on campus, and again surprisingly I'm not showing off) this kid and I meet in the middle of the road. He is stepping across the double yellow line as I drive past within 6 inches of him. Sorry your mommy and grand mommy didn't teach you shit as a kid. As the thought crosses my mind that his skinny ass could actually hurt my car I get mildly concerned. He doesn't even stop or jump back. he just keeps walking only now he is yelling in some foreign language that I do not understand. I'm not very cultured but maybe in his country this is a common practice.

Mommy throws a huge fit that I also do not care about as I drive way. I pull around into the dorm to pick up my friend and place the phone call that informs them that their BLACK STALLION DRIVEN CHARIOT HAS ARRIVED (My car)!

While waiting for them to come out I happily reach over and start to devour some delicious McDonalds Dollar Menu items. Halfway through my second wrap thingy this old ass lady carrying a ton of shit walks up to my window and says (In a very Western Europe accent) "You need to learn how to drive!" With a mouth full of food and my mind in McDonalds Food heaven it took a second to process. In this half second process I must not have coughed up whatever response she expected so she kept yelling shit. In my mind I'm think "You have no idea who you are talking to." Most of the time I am convinced I have a serious anger management problem. It took less then a millisecond for me to flip from having an awesome day to channeling all of the worlds hatred into this lady. By the time I have sallowed my food Lady number two shows up.

First words out of my mouth "Maybe you need to learn how to use a crosswalk, becuase thats what they are..." I am RUDELY interrupted by the Mom "We are reporting you to the Police, you hit my son."

That was news to me. Since I was the driver of the vehicle I know I didn't hit your idiot kid. From here my attitude towards these people plummets.

My turn to start the interrupting.

"Maybe if your son looked at me and decided that he WAS NOT bigger then my 2000 pound car, he wouldn't have walked into the middle of a street"

Now that I have put the Honor and Integrity of their family name on the line, It was on like Donkey Kong.

Mom starts out by saying "We are reporting you to the authorities." Charging head first into a battle which I have no fear of loosing: "oh yea well take down my licence plate and call the F$%*'in Cops. I'll even give you my dam phone so you can call them. Then I will take my phone back and call them back and inform them that under Arizona Regulatory Statute 12-1809 I consider your contact with me harassment. That means both of you can get carried off to jail RIGHT NOW. (this next part I was screaming at the top of my lungs) and while I'm on the phone with them I will inform them I am issuing a citizens arrest for J-Walking."

This seemed to move some brain cells in Grand Mom. "We are going to right down your information." Lunatic lady started to move to the back of my car out of sight from the drivers seat waving the pen and the bag of chips in her hand. I would assume that the bag of chips would be were the information about my car would be written.

Realizing that we could have a serious Forrce Protection issue on my hands, Two threats surrounding me, I throw the door open. By the Grace of God I missed the mom. This was the second were both of these ladies realized that I am a crazy mutha&*^! and I am no longer playing nice.

The second I hopped out both of them took off running towards their son who was sitting on top of the case of  water he had been carrying. That was just comical. He clearly didn't give a shit if I hit him or not.

Grand Mom brought the heat with the next sentence. "You F*^#ing Americans are worthless and do not know how to do anything respectfully"

I summoned the heat of one thousands suns into my body and projected my voice as best as possible. "How about you just go home, oh and here is my license plate (pointing at it). I'm not sure were you put it on your cars in your country but in AMERICA we keep it right here." As I danced around the back of my car like the freaking lunatic I was.

By now I had quite created quite the scene. Both my friends were crying laughing so hard. I reach back into my car and snatch the rest of my wrap thing and take a huge bite and continue to yell obscenities at the retreating group with a mouth full of food.

After they had went around the corner out of sight, with still a group of people staring at me, I whip my phone out and on speaker, call the non emergency police number and tell the person on the other end that I would like to report a citizen who is J-walking across a busy intersection and I am concerned for the drivers on the road. The kicker: Operator says "Well if they aren't in a crosswalk, just call us back when they get killed by a car, they have no right of way. Hear from you soon. Have a good day!"

Of the few people left watching this adventure unfold, most of them start laughing at what the 911 operator said and walk away. I promptly sit down and finish my wrap.

Paige the Mustang 2. Pedestrians 0.

Good day. And it was all before 2pm. Def could only get better from that point!

Old Folk vs Young Hooligans

I found myself at the Base Shotgun range again this weekend. Little did I know that the that the shotgun club on the base appeared to be just as bad as the Tucson Trap and Skeet Club. As my dad and I roll up on scene we only see three field to shoot on and all are full. Nightmare. Not that I don't like shooting with people, I just prefer to do it by myself, especially since I have a quite controversial gun and I'm not that good at it since I started the whole trap and Skeet thing 6weeks ago. To make matter worse, there is only one Trap field, which has a full party shooting and more people waiting to shoot.

After we go through the hassle of figuring out where to buy the rounds at and all the stupid safety questions by the people working the booth (Yes I do actually know where the danger end is!), we go over to the Trap field and try to make some friends.

Surprisingly most of the people didn't need their walkers to walk to the shooting stations. And most of them were fairly easy to talk to once you dropped in on whatever they were talking about.

After talking to the "Gentlemens Club" (and thats not because they were young whippersnappers who chased after women) we went back to our truck to pull out our two shotguns. Given that I have a shotgun made for killing people in tiny rooms and my dads is actually semi made for this sport, most of them flocked to look at my gun and proceed to inform me that "You won't be hitting shit with that." I was walking back to the truck to get ammo when I heard this. Since this is my new baby I turn around to see who is so incredibly doubtful of my skills...CAPTAIN AMERICA, in the flesh, minus American Flag headband. I thought of many quick comebacks to say such as "are you really talking to the guy whose shotgun is made to kill people" or "Ya grab your walker old man I'll see you on the field" I remembered that my dad was within earshot and would promptly shoot me with my own shotgun if I said that, so I said nothing and walked back to the truck.

After figuring out who is doing what I snatch up my dads shotgun and head out with for the first round. Of course being so incredibly new to this whole game I am shoving ammo in every pocket in my jacket since I have no snazzy vest thing or hip holster like everyone else does, and the old men are now waiting on me... embarrassing.

Of the 5 shooting stations the first four are taken, I'll shoot last since I am not given an option. Heading out there and fussing in my pockets for shells while people starting yelling variation of Pull (you yell PULL and the guy pressing the button which causes the machine to fire out the clay pigeon). these variations in "PULL" to "PUUUAAAAAAAAAA" and the funniest of the group "PUUUUUUUU." So after hearing all these I probably have the stupidest look on my face as the entire "Gentlemens Club" stares at me. PULL! BOOM! Vaporized that little clay bastard. Touche Gentlemen.

25 Birds in a round and 5 shooting stations. Shoot five birds and move to the next station.

After the first two stations and 100 percent hit rate. I move to the third station and fucked it all up. Missed 4 out of 5 on this station. But I can see that I already showed them what a Boss I am. In the end of round 1 I was 17 out of 25. Not to bad for being pretty damn sick, tired and coughing like I have been smoking for 80 years.

Round two was 19 our of 25.

After this round everyone left except one guy who was clearly a pro. So pro that he had ear protection that connected to his Ipod which he kept in one of his many pockets in his fancy shooting vest, purple glasses, and some weird shell holder that looked like he could take on most of the world in a zombie invasion. He had been talking to my dad while I was out on the field. they were basically Best Friends for Life (BFFL) at this point.

He offered two be the Puller (guy who pushes button) for a round while my dad and I shoot against each other if we pull one for him. Of course we agreed.

On said round I shot a solid 7 out of 25 with my shotgun designed for people while my dad did much better. I blame this drop in accuracy as to shooting a different gun without warm up.

We pull one for him and he actually let me shoot his (at least) 3,000 dollar gun for his last two birds. He gave me three rounds. As he was yelling at me about how he loaded these shells himself and since I had ear protection on and didn't fully understand how to work said weapon, the only words I picked up from his rant were "BIG" and "RECOIL." I put those two words together with the full understanding when I pull the trigger I'm going to blow my shoulder off and drop his gun. So here we go, PULL! boom! Ya it was like shooting the bolt action .22 we have. So with my ridiculous flinch I wildly missed the bird. "YOU MISSED IT!" In my head I'm saying "Thanks boss, I noticed." As he hands me round number two and I fumble it into the gun he says "IT"S NOT GONNA HURT AT ALL SON" Once again in my head "Thanks, I'm aware."

I vaporized the next two. Always end it on a good note.

Point here is Old people don't think the young kids know what they are doing. Boy did I show them wrong. Minus the one round were I was at a 28 percent hit ratio...Glad I get to work on that this Saturday.