OK, so The ABIB is driving to work yesterday doing what she always does in the car on that route, listening to the DC all news radio channel. Yes, yes, I know it's probably not the best choice for such an angry bitch, and I know I should be listening to some nerve-soothing classical music but truthfully it puts me directly to sleep.
So here I am, not a morning person, and it's the morning, and here I am when I'd rather still be in bed, and I'm on my way to my insipid job, and it's October 31 in a presidential election year and I'm listening to an all-news radio station. I think you know where this is going. Already looking forward to my Pinky-provided DunkyDoo morning libations I hear this shit coming out of the car's squawk box:
"Polls show that a full 14% of American voters still say they are undecided four days before the election."
It's a miracle I didn't wreck the car into the nearest shabby Woodlawn, MD telephone pole. Or bus-waiting person. And in Woodlawn, MD there are many, many bus-waiters to choose from. The saying "I saw red" literally and quite suddenly made sense to me. ONE IN SEVEN AMERICAN VOTERS STILL SAY THEY'RE UNDECIDED ABOUT WHO TO VOTE FOR!! Motherfuckers can I get a witness!? What kind of a lame-ass, fucked-up, wishy-washy, pansy-ass R-FUCKING-TARD do you have to be to still be "undecided"? These two men (well, one's a man, anyway, the other is, I'm pretty sure, a reanimated corpse of a former man who died in an apparent horrible Jawbreaker accident of some kind) have been stating their political case in the public eye for close to TWO YEARS. PICK ONE, ASSHOLE!! It's not hard; you listen, you think, and you choose. Jesus Christ, I mean, five-year-olds at last night's Halloween candy fest in my neighborhood were able to make fucking choices among way more than two delectable options. Normally in five to ten seconds or fewer.
What a sorry life these losers must lead. I mean, how do they get through the day?
OMG, should I wear the brown pants or the black ones?
OMG, should I have the cereal or the hot oatmeal?
OMG, should I take the Beltway or the back roads?
OMG, should I bring my umbrella or my raincoat?
Holy Crap! Life has to be one, unending horror fest of indecision from the moment they wake:
OMG, should I crap in the upstairs or downstairs bathroom?
to the moment they close their eyes again at bedtime:
OMG, should I sleep on my back or my stomach?
But I feel zero pity for these fucking whack-jobs because I've met them, I wait behind them in everything from Pinky's DunkyDoo, drive-"thru" line to the local Walgreen's. They are infuriating and they are everywhere. Waiting in line, my lower back already starting to give me grief, arms juggling the 15 or fewer (unlike other shoppers I DO FUCKING READ SIGNS) items because I erroneously did NOT get a cart upon entering the store thinking - HAH! - that it would be a quick trip, I get up to one person more before I can check out and...and...OH HAPPY DAY...it's one of those 14% undecided motherfuckers who can barely make it out of bed in the morning without worrying about which foot to put on the ground first.
Oh, NO!! I didn't know there would be TWO kinds of micro-point ink pens available, I thought there was only one! Do you know which one is better because I did not expect to have to make a choice!
This is addressed to the barely-awake, gum-chewing, minimum wage slave who is running the register and who literally looks like she could drop dead at any second. This is the person that "Ms 14%" is asking to help in this terrible, terrible decision. Minium wage slave could clearly not give a rat's ass and just shrugs. I'm doomed and I know it. My back, by now screaming at me to "SIT THE FUCK DOWN, BITCH!", is joined by my arms in the cacophany of ache that has become my lot in life at this moment. Killing this person in front of me becomes a real possibility in my mind but instead I offer, in as pleasant a voice as I can muster at this moment:
My husband buys the Rollerpoint ones and he really likes them.
I realize that the fake brightness in my voice is not fooling anyone. I feel murderous and I sound it. "Ms 14%" belies a certain shock at my tone and looks querulous:
Really? Because I was leaning toward the Bics. Hmmmm....has he bought many of them?
The rest is a blessed haze in my memory because, like when you break your arm or experience childbirth, the pain part kind of fades away. Suffice it to say that I've been up close and personal with this 14% of our fellow Americans and let me tell you, it's not a pretty picture. But I did get my petty revenge in a small, small way. As I finally lowered my big ass into the car and sighed a gush of relief that my back could finally shut up, I watched as 14%, Rollerpoints safely in the bag, spent a few seconds deciding if said bag should go into the front seat or the back and I had to smile to myself. Those Rollerpoints suck; shoulda gone with the Bics. Hope it won't come back as bad karma to bite me on Election Day. ON NOVEMBER 4th GET OUT AND VOTE!! GO OBAMA!!!!