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The Art of B*tching- ‘Cranky Old Men’ by Rebekah Tripp

You know what I hate, when people disappear for freakin ever and then all of a sudden show up like it’s no big deal.  Then you sit there and feel like the *sshole, cause you’re thinking, “Where the F have you been?” So, in order to circumvent all that sheezy….I shall call a spade a spade.  I been gone fools.  However, like a late period….I’m back and I know you are oh so glad to see me!

Alright, topic of conversation/bone of contention.  First, let me preface this by saying that I love old people like I love my mom and cat.  Unconditionally love them.  If they have canes or walkers, I’m a goner; tears, blubbering, following them and holding the door open for them wherever they go.  There is however, a rare breed of old person that does not grip my heart like Jessica Tandy in Fried Green Tomatoes.  What do I speak off?  The cranky *ss, crotchety old man whose a tad too chauvinistic and d*ckish for his own damn good.  You’re almost dead old men..chill out.

I shall present, as is appropriate fashion, an example of one particularly old *ss man that rubbed me the wrong way.  I was headed to my local Starbucks (which is walking distance but I drove) and I was behind this baby blue Mercedes.  The old man driving it was turning left, as was I, and he started to make his turn and decided to put on his brakes and go .001 mph through the intersection.  Well, I’m beyond halfway out at this point and the light is about to turn red.  What’s a beautiful, talented, witty girl to do?  I had to pull around him on the right into the right hand lane.  Well…in that moment he finds the gas and almost careens into my car.  Due to my evasive maneuvers and having watched The Fast and The Furious too many times to count, I’m able to avoid a crash.   (Let’s face it…even at 1 mph my little Rav 4 would crumple like tin foil, mama can’t let that happen).  Well…then Wilford Brimley drives in front of me at, no exaggeration, 2 mph until we get to the entrance to the parking lot.  We park a spot away from each other (he pulls into a handicapped spot…I’m just saying).  He exits his vehicle and says to me, “Sweetheart, you can’t pass people in the intersection.” Two things first, you look like Liberace’s great uncle and I was completely ready to avoid a confrontation with your old *ss but now I shall have to destroy you.  I reply, “You left me hangin in that intersection sir, there could have been an accident.” To which he replied, “Why is it I can never win with a woman?” To which I say, “Didn’t you know that we’re always right?” Then old man says, “Not in my household.”, Then young woman says, “Too bad for her.” Alright…it wasn’t my most exciting argument…but I bet that old guy had to put a nitro pill under his tongue. 

The whole thing was ridiculous and unnecessary.  I just feel like this type of old man gives old people a bad name.  So, I propose a solution.  It’s up to us in society to deem what is acceptable and what is unacceptable, right?  I propose that when we find an old person of a certain demeanor; old ass, bitter, rotten old men, we do like the Eskimos did way back in the day.  Put him on an ice float and push him out to sea.  Let him harass the seals and sh*t.  Keep this solution in mind next time you happen upon this rare breed.  Senicide….it can happen.  The Eskimos considered it an honor….so…there’s that.

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