The Stuff

The town I live in is about 4 miles long, 500 feet wide, and has more than ten bars. About once a week I walk downtown to purchase goods, visit the library or drink either coffee or booze. My two mile walk downtown and back affords morons an opportunity to scream nonsense at me, typically from Jeeps. I don’t know what it is about Jeeps, but they’re definitely the choice vehicle of morons. So far this summer I’ve been called “faggot”, “pussy”, “hey”, and various words that sound like portmanteaus of Italian lunch meats and Anglo-Saxon cuss words. The thing is they never stop. They never give me the opportunity to gouge their eyes out with my thumbs, or at least bind them and sell them into white slavery. Sigh.

Saturday someone in a Jeep slowed down and yelled “Donkey Kong” at me, and then stopped they Jeep about 100 feet in front of me. For once I wasn’t offended — in fact I was amused. First, I do look like Donkey Kong. I’m 6′3″, weight 275 pounds and have a 56″ chest and a 42″ waist. Second, Donkey Kong is cool — cooler than Mario, or Pac Man or even Sonic. Maybe cooler than Konker, or even Crash Bandicoot. Once I got within 20 feet of their Jeep, they sped away. No other yells, no middle fingers. Nothing. Oh well — now I have a new nickname. Or maybe Drunky Kong. I like that better.