Lesson 13: Place The Sandwich On The Table And Back Away Slowly

If there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that anonymity breeds stupidity. Take the ridiculous "How's My Driving?" stickers that are slapped on the back of so many service vehicles nowadays. Mind you, this is in the center of a hypocritically judgmental society armed with a heaping dose of cell phones, unlisted numbers, and rotund egos. (I'm actually amazed I don't get complaints more often...) There's me, driving around a town of bored, overworked, undereducated people suffering from a deafening lack of healthy self-image and seething with an angst they don't actually understand, seeing as it was introduced into their tiny little boring lives via osmosis from their most recent trip to the movies. What's this? A delivery truck being driven by a stranger, whom I don't know, and they don't know me? A number to call? I know! I'll take out my anger towards my boss/wife/mother/father/sister/brother/dog/taco bell/president/Taliban/bad meat in the fridge by calling in a complaint against this innocent driver who's only trying to do his job! Way to stick it to the man!