I Have a Low Tolerance for A-Holes

I'm back from a short respite out of town to see the Red Sox kick some Yankee ass at Fenway. However, from the very start, a-holes were out in full force to get me down. Here's the short list:

1. A woman with her 3-year old who were behind me at the security line at JFK. Let's call them Mommy A-hole and A-hole Junior. A-hole Junior was such a beautiful genius, that he didn't have to stay by his mother's side, he was privileged to run around like the little a-hole that he was, "helping" with the bins, and not getting in anyone's way at all, no, not at all, so, so, adorable, that nobody wanted to punch him in his little a-hole face. Not even me.
2. Ms. A-hole TSA Agent, who barked at us as we went through the bins and laptops and keys and shoes (thanks to bitch Richard Reid) and the whole bit. When she said "ALL JACKETS OFF (but pronounced it AWWWWWFF) I REPEAT, ALL JACKETS OFF" and I didn't flinch, I knew she was talking to me when she said "IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT TYPE JACKET" (I was wearing a blazer). Heh heh. I didn't take that shit off.
3. Whoa! Look who is sitting directly behind me on the plane, but Mommy A-hole and who's that little bundle of A-hole? Oh, it's A-hole Junior? Right behind my seat? Yay! Do we get to hear him run his mouth while you run yours on your cellphone? Double Yay! Wait, the best part is to come when the flight attendant tells Mommy A-Hole that she has to put A-hole Jr. in a seat with his belt on and she replies, "But all the other airlines let me hold my little A-hole in my arms" and then A-hole screams "I WANT TO LOOK OUT THE WINDOW" and then Mommy A-hole says, "I know, I know, but the lady said no. I'm sorry, A-hole, but Mommy can't let you look out of the window because the lady said no." If that's not a full-on A-hole in the making, I don't know what is! Can't wait to meet A-Hole Junior all grown up in society! In a few years, you'll recognize him berating a waiter somewhere, so stay tuned!
4. At Fenway, I was blessed with an encounter with Missy A-hole Yankee Fan, who delighted in tapping me on the shoulder and smugly barking, "You're in my seat." With her slutty maroon lipstick, pink Yankee hat, trampy denim skirt and flip flops, traipsing in with another Yankee fan in the 5th inning. "Well, where have you been?" I asked, feigning concern. The only reason we (season ticket holders) were not sitting in our seats, is because the row was empty, and we were letting a little kid sit in ours until the "guests of honor" arrived. Then her escort, tapped me on the shoulder with an "We are expecting two more, so I just want to make that clear, so there's no problem." Yeah, got it, a-hole. Your problem is going to be that the underdressed broad isn't going to bang you tonight, great seats at Fenway or not. Sure, she's turning 31 tomorrow. Funny thing is, the broad was freezing her ass off and poorly dressed for the 45 degree weather, and I was about to ask her if she wanted to use my extra fleece until I realized that I wasn't big enough a person to lend something to someone who was just a huge a-hole to me.
5. And finally, Mr. A-Hole TSA Agent at Logan this morning, who hates his job so much that he has to be a huge a-hole to everyone he meets, confronting me about the blazer. Of course, I didn't take it off, and he made me take it off. I crammed it into a bin, pulled it out on the other side, and as I walked away, he said "You're welcome." What an a-hole! For what? For saving me from putting a weapon in my coat and being able to shoot him in the crotch with it? What, for being a totally grumpy a-hole at 5:00 a.m.? You're welcome. Ridiculous. He said it to the person before me and the person after me. It was his a-hole schtick. People don't get to say "You're welcome" if they didn't do anything for you. I replied, "I didn't say 'thank you', but thanks."

Wow. It was like A-hole Asteroids! And I survived. I know the next a-hole is but 'round the bend, but until then: Go Bosox!