I had my taco redux this morning. Last week, I was supposed to meet a new business prospect, but he stood me up. We rescheduled for this morning. He almost stood me up again. But I was prepared. I brought his cell number. YUM, it shall be.
But the stupid thing was that I decided to approach my favorite dive taqueria via the Drag. For those of you unfamiliar with Austin, the Drag is the stretch of Guadalupe Street that runs along the edge of the University of Texas. There is one critical intersection where hundreds of students cross the street to get to campus. The geniuses at traffic control have set it up where the “walk” sign goes on for a while (effectively eliminating the opportunity to turn right. It then turns “don’t walk” to give the cars a chance to move, as well. And apparently there are LOTS of kids who actually GO to their 8 a.m. classes. Who knew?!?!?
Of couse, there is ALWAYS some stupid motherfucker who thinks (s)he will just go ahead and cross against the light, since getting to class is obviously more important than letting this fucking enormous line of traffic move. Today, it was Muffy, the OMG! girl. She had her iPod on, but I saw her cut her eyes in my direction, so she knew there were cars waiting to turn. And she blatantly continued walking into the crosswalk.
I pulled right up to her and HONKED. She, of course, jumped about a foot off the ground. It almost made up for her stupidity. I was tempted to roll down the window and scream, “Hey, dumbass! How the fuck did you manage to get into this University, when you can’t even interpret one of the most recognizable images on the EARTH?”
I mean, seriously? This University ONLY accepts students who were in the top 10% of their class. Unless, of course they showed particular prowess with an oblong leather object. (GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER! I’m talking about football.)
Of course, as I drove, I realized that she wasn’t stupid. It was just another blatant example of the level of entitlement pervasive in her generation. I see it in my blood relatives. I see it in our young friends. And living a few blocks away from a major university, and four doors down from a frat house, I see it EVERY FUCKING DAY.
I start to feel a sense of doom and helplessness for future generations. Then I think of the two amazing young ‘uns my proscritos del norte have raised and I realize that it’s not flawed kids, it’s flawed parenting.
Now, if I could only figure out where the crosswalk cupcake’s parents lived . . .