Did I say I’d be doing this weekly? Well too bad.
There is this category of people I like to call “waver-onners.” You’ve all encountered them before. They’re the people who wave you on. I despise these people. They always go out of their way to inconvenience themselves so that they can look at you through their tinted windshield with some sort of faggoty little grin and wave you on. “Go ahead! I stopped for you,” they’re indicating, and nine times out of ten, I think to them: “Why, you ass clown? I waited here for several seconds so that YOU could go ahead!”
I encounter waver-onners almost every single day, the fools, and there are always two prime scenarios in which I do. The first scenario is the busy intersection. I drive up to the stop sign ahead of me, and someone on the road cutting across my road is already waiting at the stop sign in front of him. I stop at my stop sign and stare at that person. I stare at him for, like, four seconds, four VERY UNNECESSARY seconds, and then I see what I know by this point I am going to see. Through the nearly reflective tinted windshield of his SUV, partially obscured by the metal rib that corners off the area between the windshield and the driver’s side window, I see a faggoty little smile under a hidden face and a stupid hand going: “Hey, go ahead, FRIEND. I’ll be the NICE guy here and make you look like a DOUCHE NOZZLE.” So I do what anyone would. I go. What else can I do? If I were to wave back at him, he would probably become all indignant and then write a blog about me later on.
The second scenario in which I frequently encounter a waver-onner is the crosswalk. As the poor collegiate that I am, I always walk to my classes. This means that at some point in each day of the workweek, I have to walk across the street that runs through the center of the campus since most of the buildings are on the other side. The crosswalk I always end up using has no stop sign around it, so I sometimes have to stand and wait for the speeding traffic to clear out before crossing… On the other hand, I always did like Frogger. At any rate, sometimes, the road is perfectly clear. This is usually during the afternoon or late at night before and after rush hour. Being the well-groomed suburbanite child that I am, though, I always make sure to look both ways, and sure enough, there is always an oncoming vehicle. At the slowest points in the day, it’s usually some pimped out purple station wagon or something odd like that. Its very casing is rattling loose from the intense bass that is pounding through, and its hubcaps are the fancy kind that don’t rotate while the rest of the tire does. The license plate reads something like: “Waddup?” or “I spent all of my tuition money on getting this message put onto the license plate of my ridiculously expensive custom automobile, dawg.” So, I stand there, watching MC Blowtard blaze the road at anywhere between 75 mph and warp 6. I wait a good ten seconds or so for him to pass because there’s something about a station wagon blasting soulja boy that makes me hesitate to cross. So as I’m waiting there, this car, this damn driver, suddenly steps out of whatever figurative bad-ass hood his personality is wrapped up in in order to perform a good deed for me. He screeches to a halt, and sure enough, I see what I realize by this point that I’m going to see. I see a faggoty little grin (some of the teeth are gold encrusted) and an impatient hand waving at me to cross. “Yo, brudda. I went outta ma WAY t’ stop fo’ ya’ll. I went outta ma WAY, man! Go ‘head ‘n’ cross, dawg.” And I do, thinking: “Okay, thanks, homeslice.” The dummy. Often times, when something like this happens, I just turn around and walk right back to where I came from.
Waver-onners. I hate ‘em. If you’re a waver-onner, I sincerely hope you have read through this whole thing because there is a lesson to be learned here. You’re not making someone’s day by allowing them to go first. The moment you put on your faggoty little grin and wave your hand, you’re reducing them. You’re not being nice, you’re being annoying. They waited there so that YOU could go, and odds are you were actually SUPPOSED to. Just…. No one likes to be on the receiving end of that faggoty little grin, so DON’T WAVE PEOPLE ON!