Apparently one Aussie cricketer doesn't care much for streakers. Andrew Symonds is the cricketer. I'm pretty certain whoever it is that's getting the butt-naked clothesline won't want his name publicized.
Now if only we could do this to mimes....
Time: this morning
Place: the 'drop off" line at middle school
Actors: Me and Thing 1 in Tinkerbell, and approximately 200 hundred other cars patiently waiting to offload their kids at school.
Thing 1 and I were spending a little quality time in Tinkerbell this morning, waiting too-tree minutes for the school doors to open so he could get dropped off without having to endure the "mingle" that about a hundred other kids, who are dropped off early, engage in. The Mingle (it deserves a capital letter) can be a tough place to hang if you're not terribly socially adroit...middle school is still the total suck that it was when I was his age, and so I wait with him. It's not a huge time investment, after all, and I get to play with his hair, which infuriates him.
The unwritten rule of the drop off line is that if you get to school within 4 or so minutes of the doors opening, you just get in line and WAIT to disgorge your kids rather than scooting around the other waitees and dropping your spawn off into the Mingle. It's around this time that the school deputy puts out the traffic cones to PREVENT folks from forming a double dropoff line anyhow, so waiting is in everyone's best interest. We all know the rules.
As we wait the few required minutes, Thing 1 is busying himself with the 50th patdown of his hair while I ponder the fact that cocktail time is still 10 hours away, and so we are both occupied. The line begins to move, cars creep forward, order prevails and we are all well-behaved citizens.
EXCEPT for a pale green Jaguar I spot in the side view mirror that is coming up on my left. It's evident from their speed and line of trajectory that they're going to try to RUN THE LINE! Being ever so slightly charitable, I interrupt my internal grumble to think that perhaps it is a teacher who is merely trying to get to their parking spot, which would be an acceptable line-running reason.
And then I think.."A teacher in a Jag"? Obviously, No.
No indeed, for it's clear that this is a MOM. I can see the kids in the car. I can see her studiously avoiding anything LIKE eye contact. I instantly hate her for the liberties she's trying to take.
I move Tinkerbell up toward the U-turn bit of the parking lot, which everyone KNOWS is only wide enough to accommodate one car, and the Jag puts on a little speed, cutting around me.
This ticks me off.
The Jag blows past me, and then the car ahead of me, making it brake to avoid hitting precious Mama and her load of delicate entitled snowflakes. The Jag moves on, swinging around the other rule-abiding denizens of the line, attempting to make its way to the drop off point fully 90 SECONDS before it would have if it had just stayed in line.
Until the Commander has something to say.
Four or five cars up, I see a large vehicle swing OUT into the path of the oncoming Jag. The jag's brake lights flash on, then OFF as she tries to navigate around the Commander. What gall!
The Commander will have none of this, and moves further into the Jag's path. Brake lights flash on the Jag again, and this time they stay on. The Jag is shamed into stopping. So too, hilariously, is the car that tried to ape the Jag's poor behavior, following it down the path of selfishness instead of just behaving like a nice southern carpooler should.
I fist pump and shout hooray! The woman behind me points to the Jag, sharing a laugh with her daughter. We are amused and happy about this finger-to-the-eye of an arrogant scofflaw.
Oh, sure, eventually the Jag and its wanna-be clone were let in line to offload their pweshuss widdle pwinces and pwincesses, but not before many folks had a good laugh at the parking lot justice that was meted out by the brave soul who pilots the Commander.
Well done, dude or dudette. Well done.
What made that little ep even better is that the school's deputy was actually patrolling the lot on foot as this was happening, and I do believe he was marking down the licence plate numbers of them thar social and safety offenders. He was certainly looking smack at them and talking on his cell phone as they passed, which I've never seen happen before.
I would SO love to know what further justice will be handed down from the "official officials," and if it could be any more humilating than being stopped dead in one's snobby little tracks by a muddy ol' truck in front of an entire SCHOOL'S worth of commuting parents.
Sometimes, it's simply not worth saving time if you've got to save so much face afterwards, ya know?