Hummer Dude

Day 55
There was a car parked at my normal parking spot when I arrived before dawn. I pulled up ahead of the car and backed my truck into place in front of it. Trying to get as far back on the street as I could, I pull in close and tight to the other vehicle.

In my rear view mirror, I saw the driver, sitting in his car and shaking his head at me angrily. I switched from reverse to gear, pulled the truck up a foot or so, and stopped.

I alighted and walked to the back of the truck. Looking at our two bumpers, I saw that he was correct in his concern. My truck was two feet from his front bumper.

The driver gave me a sour look from inside his vehicle. I shrugged, but offered no apology.

Brett had arrived and parked. I dressed in silence. The three of us were ready concurrently, and crossed the street together. Brett and I talked as we walked. The other surfer walked behind us, humming heavy metal tunes aloud.

When our paths diverged, Brett gave me a quizical look. "Ok." he said. "That guy was weird."

The surf was good. Brett caught a beauy of a right. It was one of the biggest waves of the morning, and he surfed it well, making a series of short turns up and down the face. "That" he said, as we walked up the beach after our session, "is the kind of wave that makes it worthwhile."

Having surfed, showered on the sidewalk, and dressed, I was ready to leave for work. I opened the driver's side door of my truck. There was a splatter of dried phlem and spit on the window.

The car that I had nearly backed into was gone. I cleand the spit from my window with a towell and got in. I thought about the type of fellow who felt like he needed to spit on my window because I didn't know how to park. I reflected on whether i was responsible, whether I had committed an offence deserving of such reprocussion. Perhaps, I could have apologized and made a peace offereing to guy.

After careful consideration, I decided that he was an asshole.

copyright 2004, Travis E. English