Granola Douche Strikes Again

I was recently told that my use of the term douche and douche bag are offensive. Only a douche would say such a thing.

Remember Mister Granola from last week? Sweet mercy, we can’t escape this guy. This douche. I would argue that he is the douchiest douche who has ever been referred to as a french feminine deodorant product. Mags and I were walking to one of our favorite eating joints we’ve found in Durango when this douche spotted us on the sidewalk. I could see him coming.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

Maggie found his glance, and it was obvious he recognized us. He totally sparked up a conversation…with Maggie. Again, this douche just ignored me. I quickly mentioned that we were on our way to dinner, when he asked where we were going. I told him any place that doesn’t serve vinegar and water. He just stared at me. Clueless. Smoke a little less weed, brah, and your squirrel’s nut might process such a statement a little bit faster.

I feel bad about saying anything bad about anyone. Silly, I know. But honestly. People like this rub me so, so wrong. Honestly, if he just said to me, “Your lady friend is beautiful, so you’ll have to forgive me for flirting with her,” I’d be much cooler with it. Anyway, after listening to him tell us about a bar that we should go to after we ate, I waited until he was well out of sight before we continued on our jaunt. Geez. What a douche.

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