Yesterday I rode my scooter to work in the pouring rain. I needed the bike in order to transport precious cargo home from the office. What precious cargo? Gold? Diamonds? Bacon? No, replacement branches for a late 1970s silver aluminum Christmas tree.
Some people are decent human beings with values that comport with generally accepted notions of agreed-upon morality. Some others are Cowboys fans. But the darkest and most deranged among us — those most irretrievably disturbed in society’s eyes — vandalize scooters.
‘Tis the season to scoot about town for Christmas shopping (or just buying things that are on sale for yourself). And today’s edition of Mad Throttle brings you the cautionary tale of That Guy.
You don’t want to be That Guy. I met – or I should say encountered – or, really, I should say saw and marveled (in a bad way) at That Guy – while I was trying to buy legwarmers on sale at Century 21. Legwarmers are on the second floor at Century 21, and since stairs no longer exist in any public place, that meant that anyone who wanted to get to the second floor (whether to purchase legwarmers or for any other reason) had to negotiate the escalator.
Escalators typically aren’t that challenging to negotiate. Even a novice can grasp the concept of walking up to the kinetic staircase, placing a foot on one of the moving steps, and then effortlessly ascending to one’s destination. (This is why escalators don’t come with instructions. Even regular people can figure them out, just by looking at them.) Varsity-level players may up their escalator game by walking up the stairs during their automated ascent to heaven.
But then there’s people like That Guy. Alas, poor That Guy. I knew him well, Horatio. (Shit, wait, wrong rant.)