This past winter it was really cold, right? Well, it was really cold here in NNJ – I don’t know where your readers are from, TNR. So I was at the diner with a couple of buddies one evening: we finish eating, go outside to smoke (in the freezing cold) and then peace-out. As I’m walking to my car at the other end of the lot, I watch this dude pull in right next to me on the driver’s side – one of those really ugly hatchback something-or-others with the wide tailpipe and racing stickers on the back. Anyway, he pulls in about 9 inches from my car – doesn’t hit it or anything, but he’s too close for me to open my door and get in on the driver’s side. So, like 5 seconds after he gets out of his car, I pass him in the lot and say “hey man, could you move your car over a bit? I don’t think I’m going to be able to get into my car with you that close.” He turns around, looks at his parking job (there are other spots in the lot, and he had PLENTY of room on HIS driver’s side), and says something along the lines of “pfft. Whatever dude; you got lotsa room.”
Sure enough, when I get to my car, there’s like 9 inches between us. I have to crawl in from the passenger side, which is kind of a pain in the ass because I drive a stick shift Mini Cooper with bucket seats (not that they make ’em with bench seats – but if they DID, I’d sure as hell have one, a la that Cake song “stick shifts and saftey belts, bucket seats have all got to go…”). Anyway, as I’m warming up my car – like you do when it’s like 4 degrees F outside – I’m getting more and more pissed at the dude’s plain lack of human decency. And I start to have to pee. Not because I’m pissed, but because I drank about 3 large glasses of water in the diner. And then it hits me: “it’s better to be pissed off than pissed on.”
So I back my car out of the spot I was in (my car is nice ‘n toasty now) and pull in to the spot on the other side of monsieur douchenozzle’s car. I back in, so that I can open my door so nobody walking through the parking lot will see me pissing on the door-lock on HIS driver’s side.
Now, Red, I know that most of your readers are women, but this is one of those times where men have certain advantages in life: the ability to aim our urine and to stanch the flow via gentle pressure to the urethra.
I spent the next five or so minutes peeing in his lock, giving it a second to freeze, and peeing some more on top of that. “Ha-ha,” you say: everybody knows that car door-locks have those little metal things on them specifically to keep water (urine) out. Yes, but I own several paperclips. I used one of these to hold the little metal flap up/aside as I did my work. No splashes or anything.
Power door-locks? I thought of that too. When I finished peeing, I took one of the half-finished gallons of water I had left from hiking and poured it in the joints of BOTH of his shitty little racecar’s doors. Slowly. A little at a time. So it would have time to freeze.
I’d love to say “then I took a big dump on the hood of his car (and it was shaped like a mountain lion),” but I didn’t. Mainly because I didn’t have to poop and, again, it was witch-tit cold outside. The whole thing took about fifteen minutes and I totally boogied out of there when I was done.