"yo, what are you gonna do about it?"

okay, so maybe i have a big mouth and i don't know when to shut up sometimes. but other times, it makes for a great story.

i just moved into chateau harder this week. on wednesday, i went to wal-mart with brooke to pick up a few things for my new room since i haven't had my own bedroom in about a year and a half and have given up the majority of my belongings. we took the long way through the parking lot just so we could take a gander at chuck-e-cheese and reminisce about the days of playing the jurassic park ride til we were about to puke from the greasiest pizza known to man.

as we rounded the corner of the parking lot, past the grocery store, i said outloud, "man, this is the worst fucking parking lot i've ever been in." now, i've been in some pretty terrible parking lots. the shopping center by my dad's house is one of the absolute worst because if it's not small mexicans driving through in cars that are on their last leg, it's hockey moms in suburbans they don't know how to drive. following in a close second is the parking lot in the calabasas commons. not only is it not uniform in the sense that the lanes don't go in a grid-like fashion, but there are diagonal aisles. fuckin' a.

the aisle i'm going down empties out right by a driveway, and fellow (not a gentleman) in his late 30s, possibly in his early 40s. balding, olive complexion, possibly some pockmarks and a mustache, was driving a pick up truck going mach 70 speeds through, nearly clipping the front of my adorable volkswagen golf. my window was down because it was such a glorious southern california day (read: 90 degrees in november with my shirt sticking to my back), and so was his (most likely for the same reason), so he definitely heard me yell "WHOA SLOW DOWN YOU ASSHOLE!"
he did not like being called an asshole very much, so he stopped his truck in front of my car and said, "did you just call me an asshole?"
my reply to him was "OK, COULD YOU MOVE?"
oh, he moved alright. he moved up to the driveway, jerked his truck to a halt, and got out of his car.

as he walked towards my car, brooke gripped my center consol, looking around for something to be used as a weapon. i thummbed through my brain glossary, wondering what i could use because my mace was not in my purse and if this dude hit me, i was probably going to stab him. a persian mother in a sea foam green explorer pulled up LITERALLY on top of my car and said to me "people in this world are SO mean" to which i replied "yes, i am aware."

pockmark mustache man is approaching my car rambling about how i called him an asshole, and brooke goes "ok, so what are you going to do about it?" and all i could say was "brooke, please." because there are no weapons in my car. so finally i go "OKAY, I'M SORRY." and he replies with "you better be."

WHAT? REALLY? it's the year 2008, you're hauling ass in a parking lot, AND getting offended by being called an asshole? do you have anger issues? control issues? are you abusive? WHAT WERE YOU PLANNING TO DO TO TWO GIRLS IN A CAR? REALLY.

so pockmark mustache man walks back to his car, brooke and i start cracking up hysterically, and make our way into wal-mart.


later on, on the way home, we saw a man using a a segway as a mode of transportation.......