The local private (expensive) high school is back in session. There’s something going on there tonight.
I was watching the young bucks, cruising the mostly empty streets in their daddies’ high priced, high powered cars, desperately overcompensating for whatever shortcoming it is they’re overcompensating for.
They roar down the long, straight street, burning rubber, sailing through the stop sign at about 50 mph. Once past, they slam on the brakes to skid to a halt, practicing their bootlegger turns, then roaring back to do doughnuts in the intersection, before finally burning rubber back the way they came.
Alcohol is almost certainly involved.
After the first three or four do it some of the wonder leaks away as a spectator and I’m left to simply speculate on which one is going to pick off a cinder block wall with Daddy’s BMW and which one is going to be the moron left holding the bag and doing doughnuts when the cops show up.
But my favorite of them all tonight, the one that’s got my vote as “Most Likely To Be A Darwin Award Winner,” is the dude who did all of this in Daddy’s Jaguar – with the left turn light blinking the whole time. There’s a certain bizarre nature to someone who’s that ignorant, distracted, and oblivious to the turn signal being on as they drive mile after mile without even thinking of turning. (“What’s that clickin’ noise?”) To see someone that lacking in situational awareness then go out and actively try to wrap himself and his friends around a tree at high speed?
It’s not a thing of beauty, nor is it all that rare in these parts, but it is a thing that makes you think some discouraging thoughts about the future of our society.
Click-click. Click-click. Click-click.
We Love The Stars Too Fondly 