Wanna Race?

So I pull into Popeye's Chicken because it's the closet non-sit down restaurant closet to me. On the way home from work and hungry as fuck, I could care less what I eat, as long as it's food and sort of good. Enter Popeye's Chicken.

So I pull into the establishment, which is located around 300 feet from my house. Right off the bat, some dumbass is blocking both lanes while he drops off his pregnant wife and kid. OK, that's cool...but the guy took over a fucking minute. Really? Is is that difficult to stop your car, let people out continue on your way? Must require a degree these days.

After a minute or so of waiting for guy to drop off people, I pull into a parking spot (which was previously blocked by his car). As soon as I get out, I hear the most ridiculous offer I've ever heard in my life:

"Wanna race man?"

This guy, who was blocking both lanes, just asked me to race him. I turned to him and said, "Excuse me?"

"Wanna race?"

So many things went through my mind. "Fuck no, I'd appreciate it if you didn't take up two fucking lanes though," is something I thought of saying.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," is what I offered up instead, because I really didn't feel like getting mobbed tonight.

"You sure you don't want to race?"

God damnit. This fucker is persistent. All I want is some fried chicken and mashed potatoes, not a fucking race.

"Yeah, I'm cool," is what I said back. And the dude just looked stoned face in his car while his wifey and kid ordered some food inside. '

So I got my food and headed home from there, never to hear from Speed Racer again.

Seriously though, the guy had a huge piece of shit. If i had raced him, I would've looked like some foreigner in the Indianapolis 500 against him. Yeah, his car was that big of a piece of shit. And my engine light is on, if that tells you anything.

Other than fuck face from Popeye's, it was a good night.