Who The Fuck Leans Out Of A Car Window And Throws Eggs At People? A Douchebag, That’s Who.

Which came first, the chicken or the douchebag?


We’re coming out of a pub, having finished a rollicking game of darts–it’s Alex and his girlfriend Carly, some other dude and his girlfriend (I’m bad with names), and me.  I’m unlocking my bicycle and lighting a cigarette when a silver Jeep Grand Cherokee loaded with college douchebags rounds a corner.  I hear, vaguely, “Let’s get those girls,” and turn around only to see some creamsicle in a Red Sox hat hanging out of a sunroof launching a half dozen eggs our way.  Three of us are hit, myself included, though I was presumably not a target, since I’m not a girl.  But you never know.  Maybe the sunroof hurler had an indecent thought about me, felt icky about it, and decided to quell the ickiness by launching an egg my way.

It doesn’t matter.

I got the license plate number as they drove away, and Alex called the cops, made a quick report.  The cops were nonplussed, but said they’d put the word out.  I don’t know if I believed them.  I can’t say I expected much from them.

I reiterate the question I posed in the title, because I’m not entirely satisfied with chalking it up to common douchebaggery.

(By the way, and just so you know:  Googling license plate numbers doesn’t do shit.  Unless you’re a more intrepid Googler than I am.  [Doubt it.])

Thank you and good night.


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