I took her back home over by the Sunset district, stopping to grab some munchies so I could avoid going out again until I have to tomorrow (off to Hayward to see lovingstones and lavandersage, of course!) and dropped her off.
On my way back home I gave a friend of mine a call (Maria... met her at Dickens Faire a couple of years back) and to my eternal shock she actually ANSWERED (she's terrible about returning calls... which makes me all paranoid, but she assures me that she's just busy). This is only relevent because, as I was talking to her (hand free headset! Woohoo!) some preppie freak decides to punch the driver side door of my car.
That's right... PUNCH.
I chased him down (which I don't think he expected -- dickless was counting on me being stuck at the light, which actually changed *and* traffic magically parted at just the right time) and asked him what his damage was. He had some bullshit story that I had "cut him off" (which is a strange thing...I hadn't changed lanes and was boxed in by traffic, so it wasn't like I was being a speed demon), to which I replied "You got a problem? Let's talk to the cops. You can complain to them about it." Mysteriously enough, the fool turned around and ran the wrong way up a street...on the sidewalk.
Hypocrisy wears one of those penile shaped helmets.
Poor Maria... I had to explain what the hell had happened (I made the unfortunate comment that someone had "hit me", not realizing how that sounded). Later, upon examination, it looks like the fool had punched the door RIGHT on the frame. Oh, he showed me all right. The fool probably bruised his knuckles. Hell, if he broke his fingers, it would serve him right.
(makes self rightious "humph" noise)