Form: Humor

(humor)

Morning. Sunny. Many people out and about.

Dropping off the octogenarian at the hospital for tests. Pull into handicapped space and open the doors.

Some prole, male, five years older maybe, says ‘excuse me’ with indignation as I ignore his irresponsible consumption of space. (The little people really need to go back to getting out of the path of their betters.)

I have had three cups of coffee so can’t control my subconscious or my impulses, so I look at him (through him really) with usual serious deadpan, and say the first thing that comes to mind:

“I am death. Do you need an introduction?”

Expression of something between fear, disbelief, and “OMG a crazy person”. Rapidly looks away, moves on. And, I, ignore him and proceed to help the little old lady out of the car and walk her to the door.

I drive off, and nearly p-ss myself laughing for the next thirty minutes.

G-d, I love messing with the proletarians.

Not quite as good as telling the little kid who asked me if he could have my porsche, “Sure, in exchange for your soul.”

That freaking kid is traumatized for life….. lol