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Published June 10, 2010 More Info »
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Published June 10, 2010
As I’m driving home from work, I get this text from (sorry ladies) my wife: WE NEED TO RENT A RUG DOCTOR. NELL (my 16 year old incontinent lab/shepherd mix) JUST POOPED ON THE BOTTOM LANDING OF OUR (carpeted) STAIRCASE. SHE EMPTIED HER BOWELS,  THEN STEPPED IN IT WITH THREE OF HER FEET AND TRACKED IT ALL THE WAY UP THE STAIRCASE. I’M TRYING TO KEEP GAVIN (my one year old) AWAY, BUT HE’S SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF. I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS POOP, SOMETHING HAS TO BE DONE.

As I contemplated my evening, a man driving in a dirt colored Volvo to my left decided to swerve into my lane, and right towards the front end of my car. I honked, swerved to the right and slammed on my brakes to save us from getting into a collision, all while this jackass continued to merge in front of me acting like nothing happened. Exasperated, I threw up my hands in the universal ‘What the fuck?!’ expression. Instead of waving sorry, the guy decided to mock my hand gestures, and then to flip me off with not one, but two hands.

When I was a young boy, I recall one recess where I had been trying to capture bees with my bare hands. As I sneaked up on a bee pollinating a dandelion, I noticed a red glint through the clover and discovered an old high school class ring. I immediately put the ring on and was granted with the knowledge that as the finder of this ring, I was chosen to become the next Incredible Hulk. I held the simulated garnet towards the sun and gathered my energy, as the next time I got really angry, I would be able to transform. Almost 30 years later, it finally happened.       

The next thing I know, I am parallel to the gross offender screaming obscenities at a bald but relatively young guy with a rat tail growing out of the back of his head. The guy yelled back at me in what seemed to me, an Israeli accent. Without getting into specifics, I told him what I thought of him, and requested that he learn to drive, while he requested me to pull over to a nearby parking lot to engage in fisticuffs. Our conversation was interrupted by the fact that he had to slam on his brakes to avoid rear ending a parked car at 35 MPH.

I then I got another text saying: WE NEED ICE. OUR ICE MAKER IS BROKEN. And in that instant, like the ice maker, my Hulk spell was broken too. I was now David Banner. I felt confused, but I did no damage so I wouldn’t be forced to leave town. Meanwhile, I saw in my rearview that the bald dude was back on the road behind me, and I decided to bring our encounter to a conclusion. I stopped at the red light and waited for him to catch up to me when it turned green and calmly asked him: ‘Seriously dude, what the fuck were you thinking?’ and as he started to answer I took his picture. Here it is:

Road Rage
After I took his picture, the guy kinda chuckled to himself and asked what I was doing. I told him that I was going to write about him on my blog, and I gave him my FOD URL. At that point his apologized. He said: ‘Hey man, I’m sorry. My name is Damien, I apologize for cutting you off.’ I accepted his apology, and told him to be sure to check out the blog.

I still had a shitty job ahead of me, but it actually wasn’t too bad after I consumed a 6-pack of Heineken. I spent the rest of the night sanitizing and following the Dodgers game until the last out when they finally swept the Cards for the first time since 1988. Only a few years after I found the ring.
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