Today, while working really hard and stuff at work, I ran across this blog by this girl, full of utter inanity.  I suppose inanity would be the basis of any kind of original published work on the internet (holy cow MySpace), but she gets like a billion hits talking about ninjas.  In her defense, ninjas are a lot cooler than something like grocery shopping.

Is there hope for me after all?  Can I overcome a ridiculous amount of laziness to write something more often than once a month?  Do I really need to come up with interesting stories to uplift myself to blogosphere fame?

There’s only one way to find out.

So today, during lunch, I had to go return a movie from the Redbox near my office.  Redbox may be the greatest thing to ever happen to occasional one-night new-release movie renters like me.  It doesn’t hurt that people online help maintain an entire database of codes for free rentals.  That’s not the point of the story.

The point of the story is that I almost died today.  Okay, well, maybe not that dramatic, but my little car would have suffered some pain, and that’s almost like dying.  I’m pulling in the parking lot to get a parking space, and there’s this big ol’ white Mercury headed directly towards me.  I have my eyes on a spot further up and to my left, and in a moment of weakness, I actually WAIT for the other car to pass me before I claim my parking lot stake.

So I stop.  I wait.  And this BIG WHITE DETROIT-BORN BOAT STOPS RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SPACE.  Wow, annoying.  Before I could even think about what’s going on, the cruise liner starts moving again, headed back towards my direction.  My spidey-sense goes off, realizing that there is very little room on either side of this moving hunk of metal, and this guy is barreling straight towards the grill of my car.  I drop it into 1st and step on it, very narrowly squeezing between the white behemoth and a fatefully parked Honda Fit, giving me maybe centimeters of clearance in a fraction of a second.  All I could see inside was this amass of wrinkles, with those super-cool blocky sunglass things that fit over your existing glasses.

Man, that guy was ancient.  When he was my age, he probably high-fived dinosaurs.  Might have dated a stegosaurus.  Or maybe a raptor, if he swung that way.  Prop 8 probably was not even a thought back then anyways.  He probably planted the giant sequoias and dug the Grand Canyon with a spoon.

So I go return my movie, replaying my near-death experience in my head as I do.  I walk back out, fearing for my life, keeping an eye on any other killer senior citizens.  And there he was.  My potential murderer.  Hobbling slowly across the parking lot, fully depending on his cane for movement.  It takes him 5 steps for every one I take.  I could do nothing at that moment but cry for humanity, realizing that killers like him were on the loose even in nice upscale suburbia where I work.

I’m not an ageist.  I do, however, have a problem with people operating large white motor vehicles under the influence of decrepitness.  If you or someone you know suffers from constant decrepitness, please, get help somewhere.  And stay off the road.  Even if you’re in a car.  I don’t even care if you’re not the one driving.  Just stay off the road.

Join me in keeping murderers off the streets, one feeble old person at a time.  Preferably with baseball bats.