The dog story.
I hate dogs. I hate them because they are annoying and they smell bad. I hate them because they bark. I hate them because they bite. I hate them because they created “dog lovers” and I hate “dog lovers” for loving dogs.
Anyways, Sunday night I roll up to a red light in the outermost of 2 lanes. I have the windows down in my lotus. A lady pulls up to me on the left, she is clearly a “dog lover”.
In her front passenger seat is a dog. In her back seat is a human. Not a child, no, this was an adult - I could tell right away this lady sucked total ass. The dog in her front seat is one of my most hated models of dog: The Barking White Rat Dog. So I glance over to see this dog “freaking out”. It’s barking up a storm, growling. I could see the hate in its eyes (apparently, not everyone loves the Elise).
So what does Crazy McDoglady do? She rolls down the window so the dog can stick its stupid white head out of her stupid green civic and bark right in MY fucking face. At this point, I was close enough where I could probably rip the dog out of the car onto the pavement where I would proceed to run it over repeatedly. However, being a vegan and somewhat of a humanitarian, I decided that this was not the proper course of action (though the irony would be timeless). I needed something less violent. The thought of activating my car’s horn crossed my mind, but I had serious doubts about its effectiveness. Chances are, it would be muffled by that little bastards incessant yelping… seriously, it was fucking loud! No, I needed something with more oomph… An epiphany struck. There are times when the stars are just perfectly aligned. Today was that day. A short series of seemingly disconnected events had left me with my revenge…
I reached over and grabbed…
Actually, let me backtrack a bit, let’s review how perfectly this all worked out…
EVENT ONE: Saturday night means a night out. It’s the only night of the week that doesn’t require me to get up the next morning.
EVENT TWO: This past Saturday night was a relatively nice night, and so I had the lotus out.
EVENT THREE: I hung out with Andy (originalsin) who brought with him, for no apparent reason, a few interesting objects.
EVENT FOUR: We went to a party at 93dx—hatch’s house
EVENT FIVE: Andy is an alcoholic.
EVENT SIX: Andy gets plastered. I don’t want him puking in my car so I leave him there. His personal effects remain in my car.
Back to the story: Here I am stuck a red light while this little POS looks into my eyes and barks at me with the fire of 1000 suns. A quick glance to the dogs owner reveals a smug satisfaction as “her precious” lets loose an audio attack on “that young punk in a sports car”. No, really, I made eye contact with her and I could tell she thought it was hysterical. In fact, had it not been for my retaliation, if this woman was even slightly technologically savvy, I can imagine a post on http://www.myadorablepuffydog.org detailing Fluffy’s verbal assault on “some rich kid in his Daddy’s car”. Unfortunately, today was not Fluffy’s day.
I reached over to the storage tray on the Elise dash and grabbed my weapon. I stuck the barrel of it right into the goddamn barking cottonball’s face. I centered it right between his fucking eyes, point blank range. I pulled the trigger.
A water gun would have been mildly funny. Mace would have been mean. A cap gun had the potential to ignite this fucking dog. But I didn’t have any of these.
I had…
An air horn.
The instant I pulled the trigger, the barking stopped. The air coming from the barrel pushed the dog’s fur back until you could see just how tiny its face was. I now have no doubts as to whether or not a dog can exhibit human emotions on its face. I am now certain that they can. Rather, I am certain that it can exhibit one in particular: TERROR. I have never seen an animal so frightened. The dog froze. For what seemed like an eternity I laid on the horn until it began to lose steam. I released the trigger. For a split second more, the dog stood, petrified; frozen in his tracks. Then it was gone. It was almost as if the blast from the horn was followed by a nuclear shockwave. The dog exploded off the seat of the car and onto the floor. I was hoping it would raise its head, but I never saw it again. I glanced at the dog’s owner. The look of shock on her face was incredible. Chances are, the she was nearly as startled as the quivering pile of fur now huddled on the floor of her car.
I nodded to her.
The light turned green.
And I drove home.
