Thursday Hate

Damn, it's over for Bridgeport.

"Oh...myGOD. I...jus'HAVE...toGOthere.

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Every single afternoon I ride through Elston/Irving/Monticello, I have to weave my way around the assholes stuck in the middle, blocking traffic, because they were too stupid, or too inconsiderate to care, to wait for the intersection to clear before going through on the green.

Traffic is gridlocked, the light changes, “fuck everybody else.”

It’s also no coincidence they are drunk, sweaty, and head-to-toe in Cubbie Blue.

Iowa plates, too.

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And earlier that ride home, two smarmy little high school boys in their daddy’s Beemer drove by on Lake Avenue shortly after Phingsten, yelling out the open window and pointing at the sidewalks. I bet those assholes didn’t anticipate us catching them by the next light at Greenwood.