jerry was a race car driver

sometimes i get really pissed. like, when i'm getting a bunch of lousy tips in a row. or when i go on a delivery and the person is not there. and i have to return to the store, only to find out that upon my return, they are now there and ready for their pizzas. but it's ok, because they were looking for me. (shit for brains)

all these things happened last night, and i was fuming. the rage was taking over and i was about to go from bill bixby to lou ferrigno.

on my way back to these college students for the second time, i decided to take my frustration out on my car. i pushed the accelerator pedal down until it could go no further. i wanted to be done with the neverending delivery as quickly as possible.

i was going pretty fast, and starting to go faster as i passed a whitish ford... it looked like a ford. out of my open driver-side window, i heard him gun his engine like he's going to try to race me. yeah, right, punk. on any other night, i wouldn't even acknowledge your existence, but tonight is not any other night.

he gave it his best shot, and even went around another car that was going the speed limit in the other lane. but there was no way he was beating me, because i had anger on my side. it gave me the necessary detachment to be able to do 70 in a 35 zone.

and then on my way back from this two part, hell ride of a delivery, i see another ford... resembled a ford, coming up on my left side. i thought how weird it would be if he/she/it tried to race me. then i thought, no way, i'm only going 20 over the limit, which never invokes a race.

unless, of course, it's saturday night and there's a lot of humidity in the air. i got barely alongside this fordlike car and bam! he/she/it gunned the engine and took off into the night. i didn't have the anger anymore, so i just let that car be stupid by itself. also, there were two intersections coming up, and i don't race near intersections. that's dangerous, man.

second star to the right...

i knock on the door. i hear someone yell something inside. i wait.

a little girl, about 7 years old, opens the door and says, "hello."

i say, "hello" and wait for a moment, thinking someone else is probably coming with the money.

silence.

then the girl reaches into her pocket and pulls out a $20 and a quarter and hands them to me.

i say, "oh, your total is $13.24. ok, out of $20.25."

at this point, i'm pretty confused, because she really doesn't seem old enough to be dealing with money this way.

i start getting $7 for her and she says, "i just need $5 back."

i give her a fiver and tell her, "thank you and have a good night."

i guess it was so weird because it went down exactly like any normal transaction with an adult, yet it was just a little girl.

transactions with children are never this easy, or rewarding.

i can't keep my damn mouth shut

i went to a motel that generally doesn't yield great tips. the guy was pretty average, and the room looked like it had been lived in for more than a couple days. i told him the price (about $25), and he gives me a wad of money, which he claims is $28. i say thanks and leave.

as i'm walking down the corridor, i count the cash. there were two $5's and six $10's. i go back to the room and bang on the door.

"who is it?" he says.

"i think you gave me too much money," i yell back.

he opens the door and explains how he had two piles of cash. he exchanges the $70 for $28 and i count it to be sure. he thanked me and closed the door.

now, don't you think nobility is worth more than just a thank you? i mean, i don't know very many people who would willingly trade a $45 tip for a $3 tip. all i had to do was keep walking and never look back.