It’s Called a Line…

So the 4th of July in downtown Minneapolis is a crowded place. The 4th of July, shortly after the fireworks, in line at the light trail station is a crappily-crowded place.

I was there with my boyfriend/ex-boyfriend/person of interest, my parents and my barely 4-foot-tall grandma. My grandma was visiting from rural Missouri (many of you may be wondering if there is any part of Missouri that’s not rural…there is). Anyway. She’s from a super small town where people never push each other. It’s a place where people don’t budge. It’s probably a place where people voluntarily offer their positions in line to anyone behind them. But that’s beside the point.

So we made the trek from our firework viewing spot on the ground near a bike rack to the light rail station at the Metrodome, where apparently 80 percent of the people who had watched downtown’s fireworks also decided to go. We crowded together with the rest of the population and began the long wait for a train.

Then, out of nowhere, some blonde, 6-foot-tall asshole pushed my grandma out of the way to budge ahead of us and everyone else in line. I didn’t realize what had happened until the guy had already pushed his way out of sight. Otherwise I would have definitely given him a piece of my mind. In fact, I spent the rest of the evening fantasizing about how great it would have been to find the guy and tell him exactly what I thought about him. Unfortunately, we didn’t see him on our train and my dreams of bitching him out in front of my sweet little grandma, and in her honor, never materialized.

Sadly, it’s probably for the better. I couldn’t come up with a single decent insult. My initial thought was, “It’s called a line, buddy…” but I couldn’t come up with anything to follow that. And I don’t even think that line was all that strong. Every phrase that came to my head was lame, weak and only half-completed. And it’s not like I didn’t have time to contemplate what I would have said: the train ride was 40 long minutes. So what would have probably happened would have been me storming up to this guy with a lethal stare and maybe a pointed finger. Then I’d get up right in his face with my pointed finger and say something like, “You…well…you’re a…super big jerk!” And then I would have kneed him in the balls.


6 thoughts on “It’s Called a Line…

  1. Not gonna lie here, Quick.

    If it ends with a knee planted squarely into his junk…it doesn’t matter what you say, your point will be made.

    I gotta be honest, you could walk up to a dude, talk about your favorite episode of Sex in the City for ten minutes and then, amidst the confusion, land that knee right in the ole babymaker and it’s game over. Insults and/or television commentary are forgotten all that’s remembered is the pain.

  2. Maybe I could pretend to hit on him, and just when he thinks I’m about to ask him for his phone number, I send my pain-packing knee into his junk. I’d like to top it off with a really great insult, but I fear that he’ll be in too much pain to even hear what I say.

  3. OH!! I’ve got it, instead of actually having to worry about an insult…you give him a warning that he won’t understand until it’s too late.

    Like you take out a piece of paper and write down what he thinks is your phone number but all it says is “this is gonna hurt” or “this is for grandma” and then when he looks up all confused…BAM…knee him in the stones and whilst he’s crying, politely inform him that you don’t approve of budging in line but be sure to punctuate it with something bad-ass.

    “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t approve of budging…bitches!”
    “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t approve of budging…dick!!”
    “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t approve of budging…asshole!!”
    “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t approve of budging…shitstick!!”

    …I think you’ve got the idea. Either way it’ll be subtle, awesome and badass!!

  4. i haven’t heard shitstick before. that sounds super mean and like it would bother someone for a week after being called that.

    i’m happy that we can keep the knee-to-the-balls part. i feel like that really sends a message. i definitely appreciate your creative way of setting it up though, with the note. i think that would be a very poignant moment for that young man’s life.

  5. i need to figure out if i’m going to stick with all lower case or if i’m going to be proper and capitalize when logical. i’ve been really inconsistent.

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