Sticker Shock: Lazy or Inept?
There's a lot of things I can't understand. Like how a compass really works. Or how to tie my shoes without using the two bows. And where certain relatives fall on the family tree outside of the core group. Once you start talking about step cousins of in-laws and half grand-nieces, I catch the glossed-over blank stare of Honey Boo Boo's mom. The gnats even circle my face. For me, even the telephone is still crazier technology than any space station or heart surgery robot that's ever been built. Our words, just bouncing around the globe instantaneously through the air and under the oceans? Wow, just wow. I can't ever seem to get anyone quite as excited about intercontinental voice transmission, but I'll keep trying.
Recently what I can't understand involves bumper stickers. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the peculiar subculture of opinionated vehicle decorations, and often find them to be rather amusing. My favorite of all time was a shirtless ASU stoner cruising around Tempe at a dangerously slow speed in a beat-up, wood-paneled, Griswold-style station wagon packed to the gills with what appeared to be Mexican Serape blankets. On the rear window, below a rooftop antenna bent into the shape of a lightning bolt was a lone, faded sticker that stated simply: "I have no idea what I'm doing out of bed." I gave him a thumbs up as I drove by, but obviously he didn't notice it.
What's driving me crazy is not the stickers, but the people who apply them to their cars so sloppily, with seemingly no effort at all to align them correctly. For the love of all things GMO-free, how the hell could you not take the time to make sure it's straight before you just drive off with your new important message to the world right in everybody's face? I'd love to be the type of person who doesn't care about these things because truthfully, the way it disturbs me is often overwhelming. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to vigorously shake some of these people like a Dominican nanny.
Drag them by their ears to the back of their cars at intersections and point directly at the spot where Mitt Romney's name overlaps the brake light - WHAT the fuck is that? Does that look right to you!?
And to be clear, I'm not talking about the cutesy funsters who intentionally angle their vinyl strips of wisdom into that zany "I just slap shit on here like it's my refrigerator" look. Though I find their carefully planned randomness to be moronic, it's much less irritating than the stench of gross incompetence evoked by the slightly crooked single sticker. If you're going to take the time to adorn one of the most expensive things you own with a single decoration, wouldn't you pause just briefly to lean back and eyeball it for a moment? No need to break out a ruler or anything, (though US bills are useful in a pinch, they're just a titch over 6 inches long), but you could show some goddamn pride and put one millisecond of care into it, if only to prevent obsessive compulsive maniacs like me from getting all worked up into a tizzy behind the wheel - that's not safe for anyone. And for God's sake, don't let me find air bubbles under it either, because I'll rip it right off in the grocery store parking lot and stuff it in the tailpipe.
*Just please crack the windows if you get sleepy, I'm neurotic, not homicidal.
football club 1991 baby! a safe place for the youth of the day to discuss their wagers with like minded folkReplyDelete