Revving the Engine of Progress

Philadelphia is the city of brotherly love and don't let anyone tell you different. The people are friendly, the sports fans are jovial and the meter maids always have a smile on their face as they write you a ticket.

However, the unavoidable truth is that all that goodness stops as soon as Philadelphians get into their cars, when the "City of Brotherly Love" immediately becomes the "City of Coyote-and-Roadrunner-level unexplained animosity and repeated attempted murder".

Now, one other truth we all have to understand before I go into this story is that people who drive nicer cars then us are, inherently, better then us. Their time is more valuable and we, lesser organisms, need to understand that.

We bow to you oh BMW driving demigods, would you like some Grey Poupon? I could slather it right onto your goddamn sense of entitlement.

So I was leading a tour around Old City Philadelphia, as per my job, and we had to cross the street. Now, getting 30 guests across the downtown streets isn't really that hard, especially when I have a stop sign in my possession. So, like usual, I waited until there was a lull in traffic and put on my crossing guard face.

But a slim few seconds after stepping out into the street a shiny, new BMW roared around the corner and sped towards me. Now, there were lots of witnesses so I doubt this guy was gonna hit me, but he got as close as possible before slamming on the breaks.

And then he just sat there as I waved my group across, revving his engine. 

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Yes! Captain Asshat. I hear you.

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Oh really? What is your opinion on this matter exactly?

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Interesting point, well reasoned. Here is my counter point: FUCK OFF!

The people in my group were looking concerned, those who had not crossed the street yet seemed wary to advance. What I should have done here is turn the other cheek, especially since I was on the clock.

But, as any good pacifist would say: fuck that! The real solution here was for me to say something Smarmy!

So I smiled to my tour and said, nice and loud but without looking at the driver: "don't worry he can rev his engine all he wants, but I won't let him hit you." 

After my last little chicken was across the street I stepped, a little slower than I normally would, out of his way and he floored it out of there, politely insinuating through a carrying yell that I was a "fucking dick head."

Now, had anyone else sat there (for all of 20 seconds of his time wasted) revving his engine at a group of old people and children and then accused me, ME, of being the "fucking dick head", I would have said "pishaw, 'tis you who are the coital pecker noggin, you cantankerous old fellow." But we can't forget the important point. Since he was driving a BMW, a nice car, he was in the right.

Just because you can afford an outrageousthousand dollar car DOES in fact make you right, in every situation. Oops, there is some dirt on your boot, I'll lick it off.

God Bless you BMW driver, you truly illustrate which of us suck.