Sorry sir, just trying to turn left.
Last month, I was asked to do a task on the way home from work that turned into one of the most harrowing of my coming-home-from-work career. A lot of times, it is to pick up something at the grocery store, or to get gas in my car, but this task, while much the same as the others involved much more rain and one of my least favorite things in the world. A left hand turn.
Nothing bad ever happens when you turn left.
Most people do left hand turns all the time and for that, I applaud them sarcastically. It is a brave, courageous thing that very few can master. I don’t know what it is about left hand turns, but I will do four right turns, cut through a parking lot, find a portal from another dimension, or even parallel park before I will take a left hand turn. I’m not talking about one that has a specific green arrow just for them, or a left turn that has a specific middle lane in order that gently guide you toward your destination. I’m talking about a no holds barred, pre Y2K fearing, jumping off a building type of left hand turn where you don’t have a light and traffic is coming from two directions and you have no center lane to camp out in.
Sometimes when you are going to training, you might need to turn left.
To me, this is the equivalent of the moment right before you jump out of a plane to go parachuting, except you don’t have the parachute and there isn’t the exhilaration of flying. You might as well put me in a pit of starving snakes that have a craving for a pizza flavored human. The fact that I could at any moment be crushed by two cars or create a 50 car pile up are all in play when I dare make that type of left hand turn. I was never sure why left hand turns made me so bitter until I got older.
Then I realized that it was because I hate confrontation. It’s the reason why I let everyone else in my family use the remote before I take it. It’s why I don’t play huge multiplayer online video games. It’s why I don’t go to Star Wars on December 18th, or wear San Antonio Spurs gear to a Seattle Supersonics basketball game, or why I don’t go to Black Friday sales(I say it’s because I don’t need a $100 100 inch UHD 4K TV, but why would I not want a TV that I could see a show about space from space really clearly?).
One time, when I was driving home in my first brand new car, someone behind me ran into my bumper. It was only about 5 miles per hour, and it didn’t end up causing any damage, but I never pulled over. I just didn’t want to confront the guy, so I just pretended like it didn’t happen.
Don’t you hate it when you bumper gets tapped?
But really this has just been a bitter plan from the beginning and why you better not mess with me. But really, I’m just setting you up for my one big, bitter season of Revenge. One of these days, when you least expect it, I’m going to be like Bruce Banner and someone is going to set me off and I’m going to channel my rage, and I’m going to take back the remote control and there is nothing any of you will be able to do about it.
Someone will tap my bumper, and I will go all Hulk on them, and insist that I see their license, registration, and proof of insurance, please.
Someone at a Black Friday Sale, will attempt to try to take a TV from me, but I will throw down the mighty Hammer of Thor and request to speak to a manager about this gentleman is making me a little uncomfortable.
You just never know what will happen when you turn straight.
Someone at a Spurs-Seattle SuperSonics game will yell at me that I shouldn’t make my 1 year old daughter wear such atrocious Spurs basketball gear to a playoff game in Seattle. I will Rage Against His Machine and yell at him that the Spurs actually have a .506 winning percentage on the road this year and when facing a 2-1 in the playoffs on the road have won by 4 points 13 times before, so historically they have a 65% chance of winning this game. Oh, and also you actually don’t have a team anymore because they moved to Oklahoma. He won’t mess with me ever again.
So enjoy your time of non-confrontation with me. Because you never know, you might be in the next car when I use my blinker to indicate that I’m taking one of those dangerous left hand turns.
FEAR ME!
ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH
Bitter Confrontational Ben