I work in a pretty wealthy area right across the street from a high school.
As a result, high schoolers are always parking in our lot and taking up the good spots, meaning this girl has to make a mad dash from the car to the front door in fifteen degree weather every morning.
While teetering on 4″ heels.
And balancing a giant bag and tumbler filled with coffee.
Every single morning.
So, last week — we started issuing warnings and letting the kids now that starting Monday, we’d tow any car not belonging to an employee/guest of my company.
Yesterday afternoon, a thoroughly pissed off high schooler came into my building and started griping about the fact that we towed his illegally parked car.
I can understand his anger. I’d be annoyed too if I spent all day in class and then discovered that my illegally parked luxury SUV had been towed.
Not understandable, though? Cursing at a lady.
Look, Dude-Bro – I know it’s hard out there for a pimp wealthy, privileged young jock. .
Your teachers don’t understand that texting your boys is more important than paying attention in class, your girlfriend makes you wear a condom because she doesn’t want to get pregnant and your parents, cheap bastards that they are, got you a 2009 luxury SUV instead of the most current model with the customized leather interior. Dude, they might even make you pay the towing fees.
Your life is like, way hard.
But here’s the thing.
I don’t know where the fuck your car is.
I don’t care where the fuck your car is.
I don’t care where you park from now on or that you didn’t see the sign (This ain’t Vegas, dude. We’re not gonna blaze up the neon).
And I really don’t care for the way you’re speaking to me and my co-workers.
I’m not going to lie — I use the Seven Words You Can’t Say On Television with both glee and abandon. But I would never have the temerity to drop the eff bomb in front of complete strangers. Especially if I’m in the wrong and the people I’m talking to are in a position to assist me.
Maybe it’s from living in the South or just from being around men who would never drop the eff bomb in front of a complete stranger, but rule number one — there are only two things you should ever yell at a lady:
A) Excuse me, miss! You dropped this!
B) Hey Mom! Wait up!
That’s it. No exceptions.
So to everyone out there who teaches high school: You deserve hugs and cookies and ponies covered in diamonds.
If I had to deal with jerks like this on a daily basis, I’d pretty much have a Wes Mendell-ian meltdown, tell the kids that for a good majority of them, this is about as good as it gets and that everything after high school will be a soul-crushing plummet to anti-depressants, thinning hair, weight gain and children who are twice as shitty to you as you were to an Office Girl Friday when you were 17.