Headlight Harassment…

I just took my soapbox out of storage.

I’m heavily perturbed and find it absolutely necessary to get something off my chest.

Last weekend we went to a small beach in Malibu off of the Pacific Coast Highway.

The hiking is great and you can park close to the beach.

I efficiently parallel parked between two cars.

David exited the automobile to claim the beach chairs in the back and I look up to see this guy wildly gesticulating between his beat up van and our car.

I knew I had not touched the car in front of me.

I called to my husband who graciously approached the 40-something mutant and asked if there was a problem.

He said he wanted to exercise behind his vehicle which made no sense and declared the world a nasty place and he did not want to get into anything.

Great.

David said he was drunk out of his mind and to give him no credence…it was 7:30am!

Female intuition dictated that I move the car, but my trusting

husband told me not to be ridiculous.

A few minutes later we were setting up on the beach and we heard yelling…the drunk lunatic was going at it with someone else and then he left.

After a lovely day of hiking and reading we headed to the car.

I see David approach the front end.

The bastard who only wanted world peace had punched in our right front headlight.

We knew it was his act of violence because dried blood was  all over the headlight.

Groovy.

Another MAGA/white supremacist gone rogue.

Bummed, but resilient, we proceeded to stop for coffee in the Malibu Country Mart since bar hopping is verboten in Coronaville.

Unfortunately, forward progress was stymied by an entitled richie rich maskless 50-something couple who were sauntering in literally the middle of the road carrying their Blue Bottle lattes.

Traffic was backing up so since I was the lead car, I called out politely, “Could you please move to the left or right so traffic can flow?”

Well, it was as if I denigrated and outed her questionable facelift and Lisa Rinna lips to the gathering ‘Bu.

They stood there and wouldn’t move their Gucci clad pronated feet.

The world has gone mad.

Anger is worn like a badge of courage.

We all need to take a deep Covid breath into our tight fitting masks and get over it or I going to go postal and no one wants to witness that.

Have an exceedingly nice day.

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