PennSilverTaco's "Perfect 5-Lug Regular Cab" Build, Aspergers, and General BS MegaThread!

At work, there are two men’s restrooms in the main building, both of which have two toilets and two urinals. Neither of them has an exhaust fan that I am aware of, so the smell persists throughout the day. One thing I absolutely hate is when I need to take a dump, and both restrooms are occupied by one other person also taking a dump. I pretty much refuse to take a dump in these restrooms when someone else is doing the same!

 

And here’s something I just remembered...

One of my Aspie friends was born to “older” parents. His dad was about 39 and his mom was about 37 when he was was born. By comparison, my mom was 30 and my dad was 28 when I was born. My aunts and uncles, and the parents of my friends, were all 35 or younger (typically in their late 20s) when they had their first kid. My Grandma married at 18 or 19 and had her first kid at 20 years old! She just turned 81 in September.

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that most parents I know were were in their early thirties at the oldest when their first kid was born...

 

My one friend’s parents are about a decade older than my parents and all my friends’ parents. This is not directly related to the story, but I figured I’d add it in...

Anyway, one time I was at my friend’s house watching TV one evening. Mom and dad were in the kitchen, and they started pecking each other on the lips. This in itself did not bother me, but in a large and fairly silent house with the TV volume relatively low, the sound of two 60-something adults kissing started to get annoying. However, it wasn’t my house and they were my parents, so I kept my mouth shut.

Finally, my friend glared over his shoulder at them and rather rudely shouted “Alright already!”

His parents stopped kissing and actually apologized to him.

 

Exactly.

 

My friend Doug is 30 and his wife is 36. His wife has a teenaged daughter from a previous marriage. She just had Doug’s child a few days ago.

 

I would like to point out that this is the same Aspie friend I’ve bitched about in the past...

In less than a decade, he has...

• Gotten us denied re-entry to a bar because he yelled at an employee for asking him to move when he (the employee) had just bussed a table and had his hands full.
• Has threatened to kick me out of his car and leave me in a parking lot or on the side of the road because I flipped out at him for his shitty driving skills.
• Nearly gotten me (and another friend) killed in a car accident when he ambled through an intersection while making a left turn in the rain and almost got us T-boned (I haven’t ridden in a vehicle with him since this incident, probably three years ago, and refuse to do so again).
• Managed to piss off many of my friends and at least one of my family members by having sudden outbursts and saying whatever is on his mind, due to his near total lack of a social filter.
• Regularly criticized me for only talking about “cars and HVAC” (his opinion, not the truth) but only talks about cooking and whatever 90s TV show he’s rediscovered on Netflix.
• Reacted to constructive criticism with anger and belligerence.
• Consistently been late when me, him, and my other friend Mike go to movies, but has no problem criticizing me when I’m late to a movie once or twice a year.
• Gotten insanely jealous over the most trivial of things.
• Done so much shit that I’ve had to bail him out of since 2010 that I’ve lost track!

 

@El Duderino
@Mitch76
@Taco critter

There’s one incident from 2010 that I still haven’t figured out, and the aforementioned Aspie friend isn’t directly involved but still plays a role...

This happened one evening in November 2010. Another autism/special needs group I was part of was holding a “beef and beer” charity at a VFW in Jenkintown (I know for sure it was in Montgomery County; 99% sure it was Jenkintown). This was right before Thanksgiving and coincided with a project for a CPR certification/responding to emergencies class I was taking in college. The project required me to stage a fake emergency and use whatever I could find to treat my victim/volunteer’s fake injury.

My aforementioned Aspie friend happily agreed to be my victim, and we agreed on a compound fracture of the lower arm as his injury. The staff of the VFW was very nice and let me raid their supply closet and recycling bin. The whole point of this exercise was to act as though a first aid kit and traditional medical supplies were not available.

I fashioned a splint out of tree branches and a sling out of disposable table cloth. I took some pictures of the supplies, all three of us (my friend Mike was also present), and my “victim“ done up in the makeshift splint and sling. The project was a success and I later ended up getting a B on it; The project was not the issue...

 

@El Duderino
@Mitch76
@Taco critter

Again, please read all the posts and tell me what you think!

The issues began when I headed to the dumpster to toss the supplies I’d used to treat my friend’s imaginary broken arm. I believe I had my Nikon SLR slung over my shoulder, but I was NOT taking pictures or doing anything that should have been considered suspicious. I was attending an event at that VFW that all the staffers and veterans should have known about...

 

As I headed to the dumpster I saw an older man, clearly a veteran, getting into his white late 80s or early 90s Buick LeSabre.

My late Grandma had the exact same car (a 1988 model), albeit in dark blue, that she bought new in 1988 and owned until 2000 when she sold it in 2000 and bought another new LeSabre. I have very fond memories of that car, and whenever I see somebody else driving one I’m guilty of chatting them up about the car. I’d say 99% of the time the owners of vehicles are very friendly. This was the 1%...

 

So I innocently asked this man about his Buick, telling him that my Grandma used to have one similar to it and that I absolutely loved that car. I tossed the makeshift tablecloth arm sling in the dumpster as I was asking about the car. This otherwise innocent and non-threatening act triggered something in Mr. Buick...

He started staring me down and demanded to know what I was doing there and why I was using the VFW dumpster. He said something about “how he should call the cops”.

I politely explained to Mr. Buick that I was at the VFW for a charity event, that I had used the items I was throwing out for a school project, and that I had permission from the staff to use the dumpster.

An old Vietnam vet at a VFW at night on a weekend; To ask if he’d been drinking would be akin to asking if the pope is catholic! However, he did not seem to be drunk, though I probably would have left my car at the VFW and called a taxi if I were him...

 

@Taco critter

I was absolutely dumbfounded as to what this guy’s issue was; I don’t know if alcohol played a role in his behavior, but my answers to his questions just did not compute for whatever reason. He started to get a bit belligerent, and I could tell I wasn’t going to get through to him, so I just walked back into the VFW building thinking that was the end of it...

Luckily, we were all getting ready to leave. Mike went with his mom and I went with my friend in his Camry (I was still about six months away from getting my license). The VFW building was atop a hill, with stairs and wheelchair ramps heading down to the parking lot. We were heading back to the Camry but still at the top of the hill when I swear on my mother that I saw a pair of rectangular headlights that could only belong to 1988-1991 Buick LeSabre slowing moving across the parking lot below us, as if following us. I brushed it off as “Good, the asshole is leaving.” The Camry was parked on the opposite side of the lot from where the Buick had been.

As we walked down the stairs to where the Camry was parked, I saw the white Buick enter that side of the lot when we got to the bottom. The guy made a circle and then came back around so his driver’s side was facing us. My “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me” senses were tingling. The guy started shouting at us from his Buick, and I literally told my friend to ignore him and just keep walking to the car. Keep in mind that I’d told this friend, along with my other friend and his mom, about the incident at the dumpster. My friend’s mom told me not to worry about it. By then, she and my other friend had gotten in their car and driven back home. Our plan was to meet them there.

My idiot friend completely ignored me and walked up to this asshole’s Buick, and started exchanging words.

Mr. Buick again threatened to call the cops, and I was through being nice...

I told him once again that I was at the VFW for a charity event and I could not fathom how he didn’t know about it.
I then threatened to call the cops on him for following me and harassing me and my friend. I actually took out my phone and punched in 911 if I remember correctly, and then I believe I rhetorically asked him how he thought the cops would react if they found out he was drinking and driving.

I had to physically pull my friend away from the Buick, and the old man ended up driving off. Funny how the threat of a DUI will change someone’s tune real quick...

 

@Taco critter

I am not mad about that encounter in the slightest, and just like retelling the story because I think it’s downright he comical!

What do you think Mr. Buick’s issue was?

• Drunk/buzzed?
• Stupid?
• Dementia/traumatic brain injury?
• PTSD/War flashback?
• Just an asshole?
• All of the above?!?!

 

As the son of a veteran (not a combat veteran but still a veteran), I have nothing but sympathy for veterans. However, when they start acting like Mr. Buick acted, I see them as little more than an asshole.

 

@Taco critter

I’m at work but on mylunch break. Aren’t you at work?

P.S. I am allowed to use my work computer to go on TW, but it is so slow that I prefer my iPhone.

 

@Taco critter

Here’s another one that I like to share because it’s funny...

This was in either 2014 or 2015. I was driving to a car show at a golf course/driving range in Morrisville (near Levittown, right over the bridge from New Jersey). I always ended up on I-95 and then Route 1. I hate Route 1, but I didn’t have my own EZ Pass then and it was the only way I could go without taking the turnpike. I believe this incident occurred on Route 1...

 

Here’s what happened. It was May or June of either 2014 or 2015, and I was on Route 1 heading to the cruise night in Morrisville. There was this shitty dark green 2001ish Dodge Dakota quad cab in front of me. This truck was a total turd, with alloy wheels that had been hastily spraypainted black, rust everywhere, and a dull gray front fender that had obviously been pulled from a junkyard truck.

We were in the left lane, and this shitbox Dakota was going too slow. I know you are supposed to pass on the left, but the right lane was open and I was sick of being behind the Dodge.

I signaled and got into the right lane, and accelerated to pass the Dakota. The driver of the Dakota accelerated as well, and I mean really floored it, to keep me from getting in front of him. There were cars in the right lane ahead of me, and the Dakota was too far ahead for me to get in front of it.

I shrugged it off, and got back in behind the Dakota. Then, the Dakota slowed down again, as in on purpose. I attempted to pass on the right again, only for the guy to speed up so I couldn’t pass him. I ended up behind more slowpokes in the right lane and was once again forced to get back in behind the Dodge, only for them to slow again.

I got into the right lane a third time and attempted to pass the prick again, only to be met with the same old song and dance. I was absolutely livid at this point, as I’d done nothing to this guy and he was deliberately fucking with me just because he was an asshole with nothing better to do.

I finally saw my chance to get far away from this guy. There was a Walmart 18-wheeler up ahead on my right. As soon as I passed the Walmart truck, I went out of my way to make sure I didn’t cut off the driver. Once I thought I had plenty of space, I hit my right signal and got in front of the Walmart truck and buried my Tacoma’s accelerator pedal.

As I drove past the shitty green Dodge, the passenger hung out of the window and flipped me off. Excuse me? Didn’t you two assholes start this? My plan was just to get as far away from them as possible, but that one-finger salute was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

I cut off the Dakota, stuck up my middle finger, and pressed it to the rear slider in full view of dumb and dumber.

I then realized that maybe I shouldn’t have done that, and realized these two twatwaffles now seemed to be chasing me.

These guys were your typical dueling banjo rednecks, and they (along with their truck) looked like they were heading home after a hard day of cooking meth for Walter White. I immediately floored it and got as far away as I could, and then saw them get off at an exit. By the way, the exit was on the right so they really had no reason to be hogging the left lane.

I glanced down at my speedometer and realized I was doing exactly 100 MPH (purely out of fear for my life. Realizing the deliverance brothers were gone, I slowed down and continued to the show.

 

Don’t you have to be in the automotive industry to get into that?!?!

 

Since you bring up work, let me share something with everyone...

Last night, I went back to my old job (the car dealer detail shop where I worked for barely ten months) to say hello to the guys. A couple of the guys I really liked quit in the last couple of months and moved on to greener pastures. Most of the people I know and love are still there. There are certain things I will not discuss publicly because I left on good terms and may still a reference from my former boss for any future endeavors.

What I can tell you (and my boss knows all about this) is that I loathed working Saturdays.

Actually that’s a lie. I loathed working every Saturday.

No, that’s also a lie. I worked just about every Saturday at Puck. I loathed working from 7:50am until 5pm every Saturday!

That’s literally the whole day! As I said, I worked just about every Saturday at Puck, sometimes working shifts of more than 8 hours. My willingness to work Saturdays, and my blinding, fierce loyalty to that bar and my fellow employees meant that my boss at Puck had no problem letting me take numerous Saturdays and even entire weekends off to attend car shows in the summer.

The earliest I ever had to be at Puck was maybe 8:45am, and that was rare. On weekdays, my shifts at Puck typically began at around noon and lasted until anywhere from 4pm to 9pm, depending on how busy it was. Weekends could be anywhere 8am to 11am in the morning, to anywhere from 5pm to 11pm.

 

On Thanksgiving Eve (a Wednesday, obviously) in 2017, I worked 14 hours straight (10am to midnight) and still stuck around until close to help out. There was a staff dinner after we got everything cleaned up, and I didn’t get home until 5am! I made $10 an hour during my time at Puck, and my manager tipped me out fifty bucks in cash at the end of the night!

My job is listed as barback to make payroll easier, but I was actually a runner. I performed most of the same duties as a barback, but I rarely worked behind the bar on extraordinarily busy nights (Thanksgiving Eve was easily the busiest of all, surpassing New Year’s and Saint Pat’s). My primary job on Thanksgiving Eve was to keep the Tacoma gassed up and ready to go at a moment's notice in case we ran out of ice or needed small bills for the cash registers. I also acted as an extra set of eyes for the bouncers, and in one case was put to work as a “static bouncer”. What I mean by that is that the actual bouncers needed someone to block the back stairwell and keep patrons from going to the restricted area, and they were too busy with other things. I am a big guy and I was wearing a Puck shirt. One of the bouncers would station me at the back stairs, and none of the customers questioned it...

$190 with $50 of it in cash, plus a free meal at the end of the night, is not bad for 14 hours of helping to run a bar!

 

Combat vets are wired different and they are usually always on guard and the defensive.