That Guy

I really hate to be "that guy", but sometimes I just don't know what else to do.

Sometimes people invent parking spaces. If I'm trying to drive out of one row to turn and drive in another, and you invent a space in the road right in front of me, I might be inclined to give you the hands-turned-upward universal sign for "what the hell?" if only because your selfishness was an immediate inconvenience to me, not to mention a full-on hazard since it forced me to use the oncoming lane to make any progress. But you, being the righteous type, can't let something like that slide without comment. No, I won't really hear your comment, but if we should meet in the store, bet I'll hear it then.

Good thing we didn't meet in the store, because I really don't want to have to be "that guy".

If you stop (not park - "stop") your UPS truck right on the narrow city street like that and get out and make your delivery, and this forces people to either wait for you to make your deliveries or use the oncoming lane to get around you, and this happens to be in a school zone, and you're doing this right during dismissal, I might mention as I pass by that you really shouldn't be parked there. You might retort, "Shad-dup" and keep on hand-truckin' down the sidewalk, but I'll call 1-800-PICK-UPS and keep shouting "customer service" into the phone until the automated system connects me to a human. Yeah, I got your plate number, but I really hate to have to be "that guy."

But I will.

And together we'll make the world suck for both of us, even though chances are only one of us will even notice.