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Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

The jackass…

The jackass had a hard morning of work and was anxious to leave for lunch. The second every single hand was pointing at the twelve, he was outta there in a whirl of black, leaving behind unfinished paperwork and an idle computer screen. He rushed downstairs, as he was only on the second floor, and put on his business suit. The jackass went through the double door exit and saw a meter maid writing out a ticket. The meter timer was expired and it was more than three feet from the curb.

“Aw, come on honey, give a man a break.”

The meter maid continued to write, ignoring the jackass. The jackass raised his voice.

“Bitch I’m talking to you!”

The meter maid finished writing the ticket, stuck it on the windshield, and began to write another one! The jackass swiped the finished ticket and tore it up. The meter maid, never looking up, finished her second ticket, stuck it on, and began to write two more tickets. The jackass swore and the meter maid continued to write, never looking up, though admittedly looking a little red in the face.

The little war continued and at the end of five minutes, the entire windshield of the car was covered in tickets. Fines for parking, fines for litter… Satisfied, the ever-silent meter maid continued along her way. The jackass, out of breath, observed the car’s windshield.

He cracked a small smile.

“Good thing that ain’t my damn car…”

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