Uncalled for?

The other day i called an old man a fucker. In my defense, i've had a difficult couple of months, i am on a new kind of crazy pills, and besides, i think he deserved it.

Ethan and i were walking to our local grocery/deli when out of the corner of my eye i saw this fat old schlub, who was stopped at a red light, dump something out of his car window and into the street. I froze. Suddenly i was filled with an uncharacteristic rage. This was a kind of rage that i was unable to shove back down and let fester slowly. Nope. There was no keeping my cool with this one. I approached the car and said something along the lines of "what the hell are doing? Did you just litter?" Then i stooped over, picked up his garbage (which was a paper bag, plastic bag, and a couple sets of chopsticks....evidently, el gordo just had some takeout Chinese), crumpled them up, and tossed them through his open window and onto his bloated gut, adding "take this back."

And this asshole's response was "what? It's an empty bag." I probably replied to this, but i honestly don't remember most of what i said to him. I was on psycho-bitch autopilot.

So next, the guy started to slowly stick his trash back out his window again, but hesitantly, repeating "it's an empty bag" as if he's trying to reason with me, as if i'm the one one who doesn't get it. Clearly, this man doesn't grasp the mind-blowingly complex concept of litter. Either way, i must have said something or given him a look because he pulled his garbage back into his car with a shrug, but not without somewhat accidentally allowing the plastic bag to fall at my feet. Seething quietly, i once again picked up the bag, balled it up, threw it at him, and growled "you don't litter." Then as i turned to go, i called him a fucker.

Ethan was quietly waiting for me on the sidewalk and we continued on our way.