Depending on how you view this blog and me, you’ll be either shocked and outraged at what I’m about to tell you or laughing so hard you’ll fall from your chair.
Oh hell. I know you’re all going to laugh very hard even if you do like me, so go ahead. I’ll be your entertainment for the night.
Less than one hour ago, I was the victim of a drive-by pudding. My wife were on a walk in Old Orchard 1, walking our dog north on Avenida Ronada, when, I kid you not, someone threw a full cup of chocolate pudding at me from the passenger side window of a speeding 2nd Generation grey Toyota Prius.
And it hit me. Bulls eye, with full force on my back, exploding its contents all over my shirt, my new shorts, my left arm, and my Tissot Swiss watch. My wife and dog, thankfully, were spared from the chocolatey assault.
I immediately let loose with an f bomb and jumped about 3 feet as the Prius driver, who had sped to within about 6 inches of the curb, gunned the hybrid and took off Avenida Ronada. Once I realized what happened, I jumped out in the street, raised my arms in the air as men and gorillas do when they’re ready to fight, but the cowardly Prius drove off, no doubt with at least two guys laughing hysterically.
My wife didn’t realize what I was cussing about until 5-10 seconds later, when I angrily spurted out that someone had thrown something at me. In the dim evening light, it was hard to figure out what it was, but it was soft, warm, and dark brown, so I feared the worst.
Boiling with rage, I immediately thought of calling the police. But what would I report? “Yes. *clearing throat* Umm, I’m in Valencia and someone threw a pudding at me from a car.” I’m sure when the Deputy stopped laughing, the full weight of the SCV Sheriff’s Station + air support would be brought to bear on the cursed Valencia Prius pranksters. I considered downplaying the drive-by pudding and emphasizing the careless, reckless driving I observed (maybe suggesting the driver was drunk) but elected not to.
So I did the next best thing. I had my wife take a picture of the scene of the crime. Notice the spent weapon of chocolatey goodness in the grassy knoll:
Image altered to protect the victim. Yes you can click for bigger.
Who would do such a thing, you ask? Naturally I suspected you readers. Maybe I pissed one of you off to the extent that I deserved chocolate vengeance. Maybe this is Valencia’s way of telling Newhall people to stay off their nice paths and pasesos, to keep with their own kind south of Lyons. Is there perhaps a fraternity at Master’s College or CalArts where pledges have to throw pudding at random pedestrians? Is there a faction of chocolate foodies who target fans of vanilla like myself?
Sticky, gooey, angry, and deep in thought, I wiped my hands and arm on my shirt and walked home hiding behind my wife lest someone think I had an accident. I don’t know who assaulted me, but I hope the karma police catch them someday.
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