Night Rider

You were the crazy old bat in the wheelchair who nearly mowed down me and my family. We had just come from an evening of family entertainment, and you were a stark contrast to the Harlem Globetrotters. I saw you with your little flashlight taped to the side of your chair, and I heard you say, “Move it, or this thing will take your feet off!”—while we waited for you so we could all go into the crosswalk together. You cruised by us at breakneck speed, yelling, “What the hell’s wrong with you?!” and then finished us off with a fading “Asshole!” thrown over your shoulder. At that point, I said to my wife, “Don’t respond,” and to my 7- and 8-year-old kids, I simply said, “It’s okay.” I’m not sure what the etiquette is here. You are clearly stuck in a world where the glass is not only half-empty, but there’s also a big booger floating in it. I guess I should treat you like anyone else who behaves this way. I don’t want to be misunderstood as feeling sorry for you because of your physical handicap, so: Fuck you, you ugly bitch.

Matt Bors

Related Content

• Harlem Globetrotters
  February 14, 2013
• Dennis Rodman Worms His Way into Basketball's Hall of Fame
  April 5, 2011
• The Double Play's the Thing
  June 10, 2010
• Hot to Trot
  January 10, 2008
• Review of Arms and the Man at Santa Ana's Rude Guerrilla
  March 6, 2008

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to “Hey, You!” c/o OC Weekly, 2975 Red Hill Ave., Ste. 150, Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.