By W.R. Jones
I go to the gym to get a body so I can pick up chicks like this. Well, that’s another lie. I go to get the strength to PAINT chicks like this. And it wasn’t even a real person. I copied a drawing on the wall at the California Art Institute. The object of the exercise was to see if I could make a painting look like a charcoal drawing on newsprint.
I’m an early riser (4 AM) so when I woke up early one Saturday morning I decided to hit the gym early. I figured at 5:30 AM the parking lot should be wide open. Nope, the lot was full except for 1 space. And, wouldn’t you know it, some asshole with a, try to guess what kind of car …, yep a Porsche, had taken up most of the last space by parking his car in two spaces.
I could, by backing up, pulling forward, backing up, pulling forward, …, squeeze my car into the remaining open area. I was so mad I opened my door as hard as I could slamming it into the side of the Porsche giving off a loud BANG!
I got out, took my bag and headed toward the front door of the gym. I looked up to see him walking toward me. Oh no, goddamn, he is huge. Right off the cover of Muscle magazine and coming at me with a grim look. As he nears he says, “You didn’t hit my car did you? That would be a big mistake.” If you have any brains at all, you can anticipate another lie coming, can’t you.
With knees knocking, eyes lowered, lip quivering, “Me? Huh uh, I would never do something like that. That wouldn’t be right. I’m a Christian you know. (and I was actually praying at that moment).”
As good fortune would have it, there were no marks on his precious car door so I’m alive to write this post. From that day forward I always first verify the car driver is nearing 80 and using a walker before slamming my door into their car. A man should learn from his mistakes.