For the past couple of years some dumb car race has come to town. I like car races as much as the next redneck, but these yokels get a police escort and rumble their tractor-trailer billboards through the center of downtown. It would be one thing if you could see the race cars, but all you could see is the damn trucks and the advertising plastered on the sides. And there are so many of them that it blocks traffic for 15 minutes. If you try to sneak across the street between trucks, the cops yell at you. Not in a kind manner, either. One woman was told, “You take one more step and I’m giving you a ticket. Don’t try me!”

So I mounted my one-man protest. Every time they honked, I rated what I thought of them on a scale of one to five (using my center finger to rate them as “one”). Then I got across the street from where I was trying to go and saw the long chain of trucks that still had to come through. I started shouting at the trucks that were honking. Nothing kind, unfortunately.

Then I got in an argument with a businessman who told me I was representing the city and that I was an asshole. Heh. Well, we argued a bit and my co-worker was smirking at me the whole time. I let him know how I thought it was all his fault.

Anyway, I have no effect on town hall and I’ll never be able to get them to stop doing dumb crap like paying for new stadiums with taxpayer money. But I seem to keep mounting my own personal protests when I have the chance.

Heh. Representing the city. That’s actually pretty funny.