Turtle

When I do something I disagree with, it still doesn’t quite feel like I’m supposed to be in the category of people who do that. I’m doing it, yes. But not because I’m like that…

Sure: I yelled at a turtle. But I had a reason for doing that. And the reason was…

… well, originally, I tried to just honk at it, but my horn doesn’t work anymore. The car alarm wouldn’t stop, so, in a fit of rage, I ripped out the fuse with my bare hands.

My point is: I tried to just honk at the turtle, but I couldn’t.

And I was already mad at something else, which is why I needed to drive fast, and I don’t know, it just seemed pretty confrontational of the turtle to cross the road right then. I mean, it’s a dirt road in the desert. Me and this turtle are the only things around for twenty miles. It felt personal. Like: Really, turtle? Right now? Right now is when you need to cross the road? You can’t hang out behind a cactus for two seconds while I blast through at 67 miles per hour? Yeah—that’s how fast I’m going. Does it seem fair that I—the thing going 67 miles per hour—had to come to a full stop and watch your stupid, slow body cross the whole road at an average speed of sixteen inches per minute? DOES THAT SEEM FAIR TO YOU, YOU FUCKING TURTLE????

That’s nowhere close to how mad a person who’s actually like that would have been…