by Ken Tuccio

The other day I was pulling into Starbucks, looking to grab myself a cup of coffee.

I’m a big fan of Starbucks, not only because the coffee is awesome, but because when I walk in there I feel I’m entering a different universe.

Seriously, everything in Starbucks is different than it is in the “real world”. It’s decorated like a pediatricians office, with brightly colored walls and framed pictures of cats, dogs, and jazz players hanging wherever the eye can see. The music that plays in Starbucks is not stuff I regularly hear on the radio.

Honestly, do you hear Carly Simon songs played anywhere but Starbucks?

Also, they use their own language.

Have you ever walked into Starbucks and ordered a large coffee? They look at you like you’ve got three eyes. You can’t order a “large” in Starbucks, you have to order a “venti”. The Starbucks baristas refuse to recognize the word “large”, and will correct you if you say it. If you try to argue proper word usage to them, your conversation sounds like a bad Bugs Bunny/Daffy Duck cartoon.

“Large”

“Venti”

“Large”

“Venti”

“Large”

“Venti”

It doesn’t end until Elmer Fudd walks in and shoots one of you with his hunting rifle.

Anyways, this particular day I pull into Starbucks and see an open parking space.

Being a law-abiding citizen, I decide to pursue this spot in the correct manner. I drive around the parking lot in the proper direction, with every intention on pulling into the space I saw.

I pull up close to the space, put my turn signal on, when all of the sudden from the opposite direction some dude in a pick-up truck swings in and swipes the space from me.

At this point, I’m furious.

Never one to back down from a confrontation, I get out of my Jeep, and angrily wait for Bo Duke to step out of his rusted out Dodge pick-up. When he does I bluntly say, “Hey, did you see my turn signal on? You just stole my space !!!”

Hank Hill wouldn’t have any of it. He gives me a glare and points to the back of his pick up truck, at a US Army bumper sticker, then he says, with a hint of arrogance, “I served our country.”, before walking away and going inside. I assume he went inside to buy an Iced Coffee, since I'm fairly confident he couldn't properly pronounce Frappuccino.

I’m standing there as he walks away, completely flabbergasted at what just occurred..

By the way, flabbergasted is an awesome word, try and use it daily.

Anyways, I’m standing there and I don’t know what to say.

I have the utmost respect for our soldiers; they’re overseas risking their lives so that I have the freedom to write crap like this. I appreciate that; truly I do.

That being said, since when does service in our Armed Forces give someone the right to spit in the face of social standards and steal a parking spot? I mean, am I supposed to accept the fact that because you served in the Army you can take any spot you want willy-nilly?

Hell, I own Medal of Honor for the X-Box 360. That’s a military game. Does that mean I can go around punching babies?

Seriously, does it? Because if it does, as soon as I finish typing this I’m gonna’ go spar in a daycare.

I was less annoyed at the fact that this dude took my space, and more annoyed at the fact that he was using his veteran status as a way to justify it.

Ever since that happened, I’ve been trying to think of ways that I could prevent this from occurring again.

I’ve considered everything from foregoing the usage of my turn signals in parking lots, to simply getting my coffee at Dunkin Donuts. Neither of those options were appealing to me.

In my thinking over the situation, I came up with a pretty good solution; I bought myself a Kiss Army bumper sticker for my Jeep.

Yup, I don’t even listen to Kiss, but right now on the back of my Jeep I have a bumper sticker that tells the world, “I like Gene Simmons”. In my opinion, this bumper sticker tells society that Gene Simmons gives me permission to take whatever parking spaces I want.

Now that I have this bumper sticker on my car I plan on parking in handicap spots, pulling up on the curb and throwing my Jeep in park, I might even park next to a fire hydrant in hopes that an inferno breaks out.

Basically, in my mind, I now have Kiss’ permission to break whatever laws I want, and not only that, but I also feel like I have the full autonomy to rock and roll all night; and if I choose to, party every day.