A cautionary tale about cars

Last night Hol-dog and I attended our alma mater's men's basketball game. It was close throughout, but as the clock clicked down to the last thirty seconds, the arena emptied as people ran for their cars. While the loss itself was painful, the home crowd abandonment was utterly demoralizing. And based on the traffic jams surrounding the arena, very few people actually experienced any advantage by leaving early.

As Hol-dog and I made our way into the parking ramp to her huge pickup, the line of exiting cars already snaked behind her vehicle and beyond. So we hopped in the truck, turned on the seat-warmers, and waited for our opportunity to hop into line.

It took a while before someone finally let us in, and just as we were about to reverse some pedestrians wandered into our targeted area of entry. I said something sarcastically "to" the pedestrians, but more for Hol-dog's benefit. I may have said something to the effect of, "Get out of the way ya idiots." Aaaannnd it may have included a naughty word. Don't judge, you know you've done it.

Well, after my mild insult, the pedestrians twitched in the same way that my dog twitches when she hears her name. Uh oh. After the pedestrians wandered away, and we had proceeded a few feet, I hopped out of the truck (traffic wasn't moving), shut the door, and Hol-dog repeated the mild insult at the same volume.

I heard every word. Oh dear.

So let me be a cautionary tale for all people out there. Cars are not sound-proof. Please, resist the urge to say those nasty things. Because you might think they can't hear you, but THEY CAN. Clearly. The End.


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