and we shall call it, smile on a stick!

whilst driving one of my standard commuting routes recently, i found myself in the thick of yet another clogged chicago highway. it was lightly raining, and we know how that balls people up on the road. we're creeping along at about 15 mph when this cab comes flying into my lane from the left, totally cutting me off. now, i'm not one for the rage and someone has to do something unquestionably reckless for me to scream or carry on. that said, i gave this cab a single, staccato pulse of my horn. no yelling, no cursing, just a "hey, i'm back here. i don't want you to tear off my front bumper." type of honk. no anger in my car. not so with this cabbie. he flew into the lane on my right, screaming and shaking his fists in my direction. the audacity of me to press my car horn one time! when i was not at fault! who do i think i am?

usually i give the blank stare out my side windows to these idiots or completely ignore them, which elicits even better reactions, because dumbasses crave instant validation to their rantings. on one occasion, i pulled the best retalliation ever on a crazed driver who wanted to get some shit started next to me. this old man didn't know what hit his ass when i silently turned my head his way and gave him the nastiest, sloppiest, wettest version of that classy poontang-eating gesture. you know the one i'm talking about: index and middle fingers in a v, then lifted to your lips with your tongue dashing about every which way. a solitary flick of tongue was not going to achieve the effect i desired, so i licked my fingers, mouth and car window like i was soliciting for money. since living in chicago, i've damn near perfected the "crazier than a crazy" routine to my own delight. go ahead. try to get nuts with me out on the streets. i'll give you a show of crazy. you think you're a little nuts, a little "on the edge"? well, bring it on, motherfucker. you won't forget the dose of crazy i administer to you.

in lieu of licking my own digits, this time i elected to utilize a new tool that my mother procured for me: the smile on a stick. essentially a tongue depressor with a cardboard cartoony mouth attached at top, you put this thing up to your face and i can't really describe how it looks beyond saying it's really ate up. the smile is huge and looks like your teeth stop at the tips of your cheekbones. usually driving too fast and forgetting where i stashed it in the car, i hadn't been able to use this odd little gem until this particular day. at 15 mph, i had time o' plenty to find it and put it to use. the look on that asshat's face when he saw that mouth was priceless! to add to my own glee, i added in loud, grunting gorilla shouts that only i could hear behind the closed windows and bugged my eyes wide. and the more i did it, the more hysterical i became, especially as the unnerved cabbie kept dropping back in the road flow to get by me again and again to further scream and shake fist. i was totally spent from laughing so much at him. no crazy cabbie, you didn't win no showdown on the road today.

at a stoplight near humboldt park the next morning, i spied a homeless guy laying on the corner, like he was on a chaise lounge of cement. gave him a quick glance and he slowly lifted on hand to give me the finger. then the other hand rose up and gave me the finger as well. i thought, "oh, you're gonna get it now!" whipped the stick out and busted it right at him......and he loved it! his middle digits were soon surrounded by all the fingahs and he was waving and laughing at me. i spent the remainder of the light jiving around in my car with the stick and watching this vagrant giggling. smile on a stick does wonders for the ravaged soul. perhaps i should send that anecdote to their website.