Even the cops don't believ me

There is an episode of South Park where Cartman gets tricked into buying pubic hair from a kid named Scott Tennerman. When he tries to get his money back he gets tricked again..and again. This enfuriates him so that he comes up with a scheme that ends with Scott actually eating his own parents, who are chopped up and made into chili. As Scott weeps over his dead parents, Cartman licks the tears from Scott’s face and says they taste so sweet. That’s a bit how I felt wednesday evening.

I was at Fontana again, doing my thing, when I see that blond bitch again. I notice that she was looking my way. I ignore her. Through the night I see her looking in my direction. She says something to her friend. I continue ignoring her, thinking: ”yeah, taste your own medicine”. They even came and danced two feet away from me on the dance floor. I turned my back on them and continued doing my thing. I wouldn’t say I am a very vendictive person. I would say, however, that when I get pissed off about something I can get extremely passive aggressive. In that sense my behaviour fit my profile to a t.

Otherwise I had a blast. I met people I know, chatted with them, danced, joked around. It was great.

At the end of the evening I was talking to this chick I know. She had come into town by car but wasn’t sure if she’d get a ticket if she ended up in a sobriety test. I had the brilliant idea of going for one from the cops usually parked outside Fontana in the wee hours of the morning. So we head over there.
I had to do the talking because she felt it was a bit embarrassing. However, the pigs said that we couldn’t get tested because the policy was that if you drink you don’t drive and I was obviously smashed so I shouldn’t drive. I should have figured...no one believes that I’m sober anyway.