Okay, I'm not one of those assholes who thinks that everyone from the northeastern United States is a prick. I'm well traveled enough to know that pricks tend to be everywhere and that their regional affiliations really only show up in accents and jargon. But this weekend, I met some stereotypical yankee douchebags.

Before we begin, I must qualify this. I have no problem with yankees as a whole. I have close friends from New Jersey who are awesome people and behave accordingly. I lived almost four years with a kid from north Jersey and he's one of the best people I know. That being typed out, you should know he did not behave like the douchebags I met this weekend at the pool.

I can't drive right now (I mean I can, I just don't have a car) and, citing a rise in gas prices, my ex decided that carting me around wasn't in her job description and so I spend my weekends working out and then sunning myself at the pool while drinking fruity vodka drinks. I'm basically partying up life like a forty year-old divorcee on her weekend free from the kids except I'm not quite as happy about it as hypothetical divorcee chick would be but you get the idea.

So I'm laying out last Saturday, buzzed to the gills, studying the sun in the beautiful blue sky and listening to birds chirp and wind whistle when who should show up but four ugly fat people. They were technically two couples. Twice the fat and double the ugly of ordinary couples.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: if you are both ugly and fat, please stay indoors. I know that seems harsh but you people can really negatively affect the aesthetics of life.

Anyway, the ugly fat couples proceeded to make every tourist faux pas that a non-Floridian can make. They laid out with sunglasses on, the men wore their baseball caps into the pool and they talked loudly and rudely at levels that were unnecessarily decibelic (my newest new word).

And then they got personal.

The girls apparently liked the way I looked. In fact, they liked it so much that they kept commenting to each other about my body. They said this stuff loud enough for me to hear which meant that they said it loud enough for their douchebag boyfriends to hear, which meant they had a problem, which meant they felt that I was the source of this problem because, apparently in addition to being fat and ugly, they were also stupid.

So one of them approached me.

“I bet you think you're hot shit,” he said.

Now, this is where I would normally use my humor to diffuse the situation. I'm very good at talking my way into and out of jams but I decided, on this day, in honor of angry drunks everywhere, I would respond with the vigor I had seen in my youth in St. Louis.

“Get the fuck away for me or I'll harpoon your fat ass you obnoxious son of a bitch. I'm sitting here minding my own business and you want to fuck with me. Guys like you give Jersey a bad name.”

“You from Jersey?” he asked, more than slightly taken aback (I mean it, dude stepped like six steps back).

“No, you are,” I said.

“How could you tell?”

“I'm fucking gifted, okay. Go away.”

He said, “Calm down, man” and then called me an asshole under his breath as he walked away like a fat tub of vagina but at least he walked away.

And, as a result of this exchange, they shut up and I got to listen to the wind again.

I'm convinced there's music in the wind and I'm trying to find it.