I wasn't riled up at all today until I wrote this.

Last night I was in Downtown San Mateo. On my way to Peet's. It is a relatively nice evening, therefore people are out and about, making parking a bit of a debacle. But here is the thing. I was expecting parking to be difficult. It was not stressing me out in the slightest. I was content to know that I would be enjoying delightful coffee with two of my best friends in mere minutes. A state of mind that if you know me, you know that it can be hard to come by.

I circled one block, nearly turned into a line of "Motorcycle Only" parking stalls, quickly swore, and continued on my way around the block. This would happen two times. Two separate corners, 4 Motorcycle stalls on each, all 8 spaces empty. Mental note made that if my stress level ever grows to get a scooter and stop bitching.

I digress.

There it was. Ahead, about 10 cars. An open stall to my right and no cars in line in front of me. I go to swoop in, only to find a motorcycle parked, all alone, in a spot made for a mid sized vehicle. NEVER MIND the abundance of motorcycle parking scattered all over the neighborhood. This self absorbed douche bag decided that his retarded rice-crotch rocket was far too important to park in its own correctly sized stall. I hope the fucker was sideswiped by a garbage truck on his way to get NOR CAL tattooed with a nautical star on his back.

My new endeavor will be to park in motorcycle stalls in situations like this. Or park right behind a bro on the new Yamaha widow maker who feels like his lime green bike is too important to park with the other shit heads.