One Word . .

Douchebag. It may sound highly judgmental to assign someone a moniker like that after only a brief interaction like the one I'm about to recount, but I will personally guarantee you that this guy deserves every bit of it. In fact, other than the guy my sister dated last weekend, this particular individual may actually be the world's foremost douchebag.

Mandi and I were heading from her Mom's house to our dinner downtown yesterday when we decided to stop at the local CVS. As I slowed down and signaled to turn right I was almost t-bone'd by a guy in a white pick-up trying to make a left into the same driveway. I made eye contact and prepared for the worst while continuing my turn. I had the right of way and wasn't about to stop and let this jerk think I was the one doing something wrong. Such is my machismo. Anyway, he slowed down just enough to avoid me but then immediately pulled into the crowded parking lot and alongside me, heading directly into what would have been oncoming traffic if there had been anyone trying to exit the lot. I went straight and found a spot near the back, while he lurched to the right and parked crookedly in the closest handicapped spot to the door. I made a comment about getting out and punching him in the neck, but Mandi talked me out of it. Had she known then what we know now about him, she probably would have let me go ahead and clock him.

As we walked by his truck, parked crookedly and at least 2 feet into the driveway, Mandi wondered if he was really handicapped. I opined that I highly doubted it, unless they've recently made a-hole an official disorder. We walked in through the door and watched as our buddy grabbed a basket from the stack, in the process pulling it out so hastily that the entire stack toppled over and hit the floor. He cussed and flailed as he reluctantly cleaned up his mess. A few minutes passed and we didn't see him so our attention turned to the task at hand, which in this case was attempting to get our personalized Christmas cards printed out. The attendant we asked for help promptly disappeared and buried her head in some other menial tasks in a weak attempt to appear like she was busy, but in reality we are pretty sure she just had no idea how to do what we wanted done. Frustrated and wanting to get to dinner we headed toward the door, and on the way out our jerk-off friend from the parking lot hustled past us. He had a CVS bag in one hand as he triggered the automatic door, but instead of tearing out into the lot to move his illegally parked truck, he made one last stop that vaulted him to the top of the douchebag list. In a move that appeared premeditated due to its fluidity of motion, he stopped between the two sets of doors and knelt down in front of the store's Christmas tree. Then, as if they were parting gifts for random shoppers, he picked up one of the wrapped prop-gifts under the tree and shook it in an attempt, we assumed, to determine its contents. Mandi and I stood there in bewildered awe and just stared at him, then looked at each other and simultaneously asked "Did he just do what I think he did?"

For whatever reason, he put the gift back down under the tree and walked the rest of the way out of the store. He then got into his truck and nearly backed over a customer walking toward the entrance. When we got over our dumbfoundedness, Mandi and I tried to think of a time when we had encountered someone so utterly ridiculous. We couldn't think of even one.