Illustrations by Ron Pitts
This paper has been running the Eh Brah! column for about a decade now, and I don’t think it’ll surprise any of our readers to learn that it’s the most popular feature in the paper. Each week, our loyal, angry readers write in with anonymous rants against some fool, liar, thief or parasite who has inflicted injustice upon their persons. Through the years, our readers have told us a variety of stories, some gut-wrenching, others just silly, but by far everyone’s favorite topic is the automobile. If there’s some sort of crime or injustice that involves a car, our readers have experienced it and, more importantly, want to share it with everyone. So as we do every year, here’s a whole mess of Eh Brahs dealing in some way with our readers’ love/hate relationship with the car.
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This goes out to the guy riding his bicycle in Wailea. After having to pull into the next lane so I could pass you safely (you were taking up the entire right lane), you followed me into the parking lot and started riding in circles around my car, all the time giving me the stink eye. I asked you why you were circling me, and you started to whine about my driving, then called me a “Fat f@#$” and a “F#$$in honky.” Best of all, you accused me of being jealous of your physically fit body. Sorry to be the one to tell you, but no one cares what shape you’re in. No one owns the road, which means we must share. I try to do my best, drive for a living and have a perfect record. If you had stopped me and talked in a calm manner, I would have said something like, “I’m sorry if I startled you on the road” and most likely would have gotten yourself a free bottle of the juice that I sell. But instead you chose anger and name-calling.
To the crazy, angry old man at Costco gas station–why did you cut in front of me? Here’s an easy to remember rule: if you’re driving horizontally across gas lanes, then you aren’t next in line. But then you had the nerve to get out of your car, swear at me and then blame me for nearly causing an accident? Are you kidding? Next time, you better show some respect.
Eh sistah: Did you think you could send your dreadlocked hippie to our repair shop to aihue your vehicle out of the yard without paying the bill? That’s stealing! Our crew fixed your POS van in good faith and now you’re driving it without paying us! You took food out of the mouths of hard-working men and their families. You don’t order a steak and then decide to not pay just because you can cook it at home. See you in court!
To da guy who sold my girlfriend a lemon: The car didn’t make it 50 miles before it broke down on the side of the highway. Thanks for the lesson in learning to trust my instincts. I knew you were a snake the minute I saw your eyes stuck into your veiny shaved head. The fact that you kept telling us how honest you were should have been a clue that you were overcompensating for something not in plain sight. Much like you may be using your muscles to compensate for something else not in plain sight. Forgiveness is yours along with the shame of deceiving a couple of honest people. I hope Karma corrects your path before your heart explodes.
Hey super neurotic crazy woman in a white Jeep Cherokee: Why did you try to run me off South Kihei Road? I was on a moped and you seriously almost killed me. I know you felt frustrated being stuck behind that big truck, but I really wish you could found someone else to pick on–perhaps someone with four walls around them like you. Or maybe a cop. Bet you wouldn’t try that. At the very least, next time please take your anxiety medication before getting behind the wheel.
To the person in Lahaina who thinks he owns the street parking in front of the house in which he rents a room: Just because there’s a little gate opening onto the street from the yard of that house, it doesn’t mean that that’s your parking spot. It’s still a public street, available to all. What? You can’t get your bikes out? How about trying your driveway, brah, over by all your roommates’ cars. And talking trash to the wahines to prove what a tough guy you are–shoots brah, since it’s clear that you came here from some rude place, at least pretend to know about Hawaiian Aloha and respect everyone here.
This one goes out to the nasty bastard in the blue Nissan XTerra at Kalama Park in Kihei. You stopped in the middle of the road just before the park, and I honked my horn at you because, well, that’s what horns are for. I mean, you just abruptly stopped in the road, the reason for which I could not see why because I couldn’t see in front of your friggin’ truck. Then I pulled into the Kalama parking lot, which was where I, my wife and child were going. But then you followed me into the parking lot. You drove up to me, told me that I was a stupid and that you’d stopped because there were people walking into the road in front of you (which obviously I was not able to see). I then apologized twice. At this point a normal person would have left. But you continued to tell me that I was stupid, and that you should just “bash my head in, right now.” My mistake was in not taking down your license plate number, calling the police and having you arrested for terroristic threatening. That was my wife and four-year old daughter in the car, both of which heard you threaten to bash my head in. You’re an unreal ass, brah.
You’ve got some nerve running a stop sign right in front me. Then again, we were at the corner of Market and Vineyard in Wailuku, and pretty much everyone ignores the stop signs there. So there I am, stopped like the good fool I am, and you’re on my right, just ignoring the fact that there’s a stop sign in front of you, too. Sure, you smiled at me as you drove by, which I guess was your feeble attempt to make amends. But what made me laugh was how you flipped off the guy on your right when he cut you off–guess he wasn’t expecting you to just ignore that old stop sign.
Eh mechanics: you’ve got a pretty good scam going. You see a haole woman (like me) drive up and request a safety check, and as your eyes fill with dollar signs you assume she’s stupid. So you start by asking for the safety check fee upfront–something no mechanic I know does. Then you hold her car for an hour or so, during which you presumably go over the car, looking for the tiniest, barest infraction you can use to extort more money. And when you find something like, say, worn windshield wipers (as in my case), you fail the car, demand $40 to replace them and attempt to hold her car keys hostage. Of course, the meek women probably don’t curse you until you fork over the keys (like I did), then drive off to a legit mechanic to get the safety done. Yeah, you scammed me good, but I’m telling everyone I know what crooks you are. And you know how fast word travels on this island.
This one goes out to all the kooks who can’t read. There are signs posted on either end of the bike/pedestrian path in the airport/Sprecks area clearly stating “No motorized vehicles.” Why can’t you abide by them? When you ride your scooter on this narrow path, not only are you putting others at risk for injury, but also yourself and your piece of crap scooter. Have you not noticed that there are mothers there pushing strollers, families on walks together, small keiki wearing roller skates and joggers, all enjoying the area and living by the rules? I use this path nearly every day and wear an iPod, so I can’t hear it when you speed past me. Once you and your scooter gang surrounded me and nearly ran me over, another time your kite gear flew off the back and nearly knocked into me. Still another time you flew around a blind corner and nearly nailed me. Don’t worry, our association knows which obviously painted scooters/motorized bicycles you ride, so it’s only a matter of time before you get not only ticketed, but hospitalized and/or sued from injuring others.
Eh kook speeding up Kokomo Road in your Toyota: What gives? Yeah, I’m the one who yelled slow down at you. You were in such a hurry going up the hill that you turned around so you could come back and harass me. You wanted to know who the f*** I am–well, I will tell you: I’m a resident who lives on the road you were recklessly driving on who is also concerned about the safety of my children, neighbors and our pets. I’m also tired of egomaniacs like you who drive the country roads like they were some mainland freeway. These are 20 to 30 MPH roads. Slow down before you hurt someone or even yourself!
This is for the person who stole the 7’6” Channel Islands epoxy board with dark green rails and off-white deck out of the back of my truck, which was parked in my driveway. I’m sure God was watching and you will be caught if you ever try to surf that board or sell it! The proper authorities have been notified and my friends on all sides will be looking out for you. So my suggestion is that you drop the board off in my yard where you got it and all will be forgotten. If not, you will suffer for your crimes against God and man. Stealing a surfboard in Hawaii of all places–you must not be a surfer, because a brother would never do this to another. So please enjoy the limited time you have with my hard-earned equipment and, dare I say it, God bless you.