Allowed to Make Fun of Something?

So I’ve got a story about the rules on who is allowed to make fun of something or someone, and when. I’m going to toss out a caveat that I’m not here to discuss the merits of making fun of something or someone, or that it is never ok. For the sake of this conversation, let’s assume we live in a world where the occasional making fun of something or someone is ok, but that there are rules. You know, those unwritten rules we all live by.

Like, two men shall never share an umbrella, under any circumstance. Don’t question the rules, just follow them. You just have to understand, there are these rules. You don’t have to like them or agree with them. Just know, they are there.

A little story background: I drive a truck. A big fucking truck (BFT). I could grunt at you and say something like, “uggg me man, me drive hemi”. It’s big, it’s loud, it’s got modified headers and modified intake and modified exhaust. Making up for something? No. Jerk. I just drive a big loud truck. Can you help me move? Ha! I do get that a lot. Anyways, it’s over 400 horses of pure win. It’s roomy, it’s loud, it has Sirius satellite radio – I basically have no complaints. In a wet road fishtailing incident, if anyone is keeping score, it’s Big Truck 1, Light Pole 0. And the truck came out fine, and the driver, moi, came out fine. Not a scratch. This is why one drives a big truck, you win.

My parents used to teach me about the law of gross tonnage. Like, when driving on the interstate. If a big rig wants to change lanes, he puts on his blinker. That blinker is not flashing at you to ask for permission. It’s flashing at you as a warning shot. “I am coming over.” Law of gross tonnage, I am bigger than you. So other than those big rigs, when on the road, I am the big one, and I am the winner. You’re an asshole. No no, I’m not being an ass, I’m just acting hard. I’m just trying to say that now I’ve driven a large truck, I’ll never drive something smaller. It’s an active “I’m an aggressor” feeling and a passive feeling of safety in the big ride. People reading this who drive big trucks know what I’m talking about, people who don’t drive big trucks think we’re assholes.

In my office, I’m the “big truck guy”. This means when office furniture needed moving, I move it. When we have group lunches out, I don’t drive. I typically ride with my friend, here we’ll call him “the Doctor” (don’t ask, long story). The Doctor is notoriously not a big truck guy. He recently upgraded his Honda Civic to a new Toyota Prius Hybrid thingee. Like, he could get infinite gas mileage if he wanted, not just the 50 mpg they advertise. We could pick up his car and put it in my truck bed and I could carry the car around everywhere and he’d get infinite mpg. I make fun of him all the time, but the truth is that he’s economically and environmentally conscious, and………..blah blah blah he has over an hour commute every day and saves gas money.

Anyways, the other day for lunch, he drives to lunch. You know, two dudes, cruising in the Prius, straight pimping. Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. Shut up. Luckily it’s not raining, so there’s no chance of two dudes, rolling in the Prius, to arrive at said lunch destination and share an umbrella. What do we do to counteract this look, these two guys rolling to lunch together in the hybrid? What any two red blooded American males in our situation would do. We up our rep with a lunch at Hooters. Yeahhhhhh boiiiiiiiiii.

Soooooooo, we’re walking across the Hooters parking lot on our way in, and from behind me to my right, I hear:

“WHAT……………THE………………….FUCK?!?!?!!?!”

“huh, sup?”

“Who the hell would drive that little thing? Jesus.”

“Dude….you...........


can’t make fun………of him............."