The whiffle bat of righteousness

Had a great visit with Big D yesterday; talked of all things illuminating and diet related. He made reference to my prior blog about the guy on the bus that wouldn’t give up his seat and had come to the conclusion that yes, that was pricky, but that it’s up to other people to take the initiative to ask that the seat be freed up so that they can sit. Big D says he sometimes gets irritated with things like this, but ultimately does not want to be “the hall monitor of life”.
Well, if he’s going to pass up that particular job, then I’d like to apply. I think I would be a good hall monitor. Instead of ruling with an iron fist I would rule with the whiffle bat of righteousness. See, a regular baseball bat could conceivably kill people and in most instances I don’t want to smite people entirely, but I do want to mete out some level of justice. The whiffle bat is a great vehicle because it is shaped like a bat, you can swing it quickly giving the illusion of a mighty blow about to land on one’s person, but ultimately it doesn’t hurt and would be more perplexing and irritating than anything else.
Here are the people that I would have dispensed justice to today: the numb nuts that start piling for the seabus doors before the thing has even docked. They come from other, more remote areas of the seabus and, because they didn’t get a good seat because they arrived a little late after being delayed at Starbucks or whatever, they feel it acceptable to migrate to the front of the seabus and form a queue such that people that are sitting in the seats (versus, say, acting like reactionary spastic retards) have difficulty standing up when the seabus does dock. Whack! goes the whiffle bat of righteousness.
Stay tuned. I'm sure I'll have a lot more justice to dole out as the day unfurls.