Feel The Wrath Of My Rape Whistle
Working from home and running your own business has a few benefits.
One is that I can make my own schedule, and that lets me pick up my nieces after school and spend some time with them. I am grateful as I don't want to be the uncle that only shows up on birthdays and Christmas. I am in awe of the orderly and well rehearsed dance that the parents do as they arrive to pick up their kids.
The parking lot in front of the school is empty 15 minutes before school lets... out and then it stars. People file into the parking lot in an orderly fashion and then back into a parking space so that pulling out is easier and smoother. Everyone is courteous and usally quiet as they wait. At least that is how it is supposed to work.
I back into my spot and see car entering the lot at a speed higher than normal, probably a new parent. Maybe he is unaware of the system... no biggie. He pulls in next to me, head first. He is defiantly new, he will probably catch on shortly.
Then it begins.
He rolls down all of his widows and turns up his stereo. Loud, very loud. Louder that what one might consider obnoxious. I look over at him (as he is eye to eye with me) and give him the stink eye. Nothing. I pointed downwards, trying to motion that I want him to turn down the gangsta rap that his 50 year old bad self was playing.
I watched as the other parents rolled up their windows and avoided eye contact.
I chose a different route. I have no idea why I have a rape whistle, but I do... and as I turned toward you I covered my ears and let you have it. Sir, unless you forget, my rape whistle is louder than your Radio Shack car stereo. It was designed that way.
The desired effect took place as you lowered your stereo and rolled up your windows... the bell rang and the kids started to pour out of the school. The kids filled the cars and the parents slowly exited the parking lot.
Some of the parents gave me the thumbs up sign as they pass me in my car. It made me feel good that people noticed and were appreciative... but in no way took away the sting of the drive home where my niece spent 20 minutes telling me how much that I embarrassed her, and that I am weird but still kinda cool.