Middle-aged Meanies

My nephew’s baseball game had been rained out, so my sister Jennifer and I decided to run some errands together. As we pulled out of a strip mall and stopped in the turn lane waiting for traffic to clear, the sun emerged and she opened the sun roof. A waterfall that had collected in the window poured onto our heads, knocking my glasses off. Simultaneously, a confused teen started to turn straight into us to enter the strip mall. We only had time to scream. He realized his mistake and veered into the appropriate lane, but as he went past us, he gave us the finger.

“Why did he give us the finger? That really ticks me off!” said Jennifer.

“Me, too! What a little ass!” I reply. “We didn’t even do anything.”

“Should we go back and say something to him?”

“Yes,” I say, as I try to dry off my glasses.

“Really?”

“Hell, yes!”

We find the greasy-haired, low-riding-pants slacker as he’s about to cross the street to a pizza parlor. My sister rolls down her tinted, darkened automatic window and yells, “Hey, why did you shoot us the finger when you’re the one who almost hit us?”

His hormonal bravado has vanished since he left the protective shell of his automobile and he refuses to give us eye contact.

“Yeah, what a jerk!” I add as he walks behind the car (a wise move in case we were planning to run him over.)

“Youth of today!” Jennifer yells as he crosses.

“Youth of today? How old are we -- ninety?” I ask.

“I know. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“Probably?! Before, he could have only told his friends that two women called him a jerk and asked him a relevant question. Now he can laugh about two old bitches that yelled, ‘Youth of today.’”

“Well, I still had some air time.” Pause. “But you’re right, I blew it."

We nod in agreement and then go on to lunch, but not at the pizza parlor.