I worked a promotional event at the Montgomery County Agricultural Fair today. As you all surely know by now, I have a true love for mullets and body odor, so I knew I was in for a good time.

So I pull up the cargo van to the entrance of the fair. I haul the large, awkward and heavy gazebo out of the van and drag it to the area clearly designated as "Exit Only," as per the huge sign. I have a name tag, I'm wearing a shirt emblazoned with the promotional company's logo, and for fuck's sake, I'm carrying a gazebo. Clearly I am not here to ride the Gravitron and eat funnel cake.

As I'm schlepping the gazebo into the fairgrounds, a guy in a "Security" t-shirt says to me, "Exit only." Oh, really? Would you rather I enter through the turnstile? Let me just shove this gazebo into my messenger bag and I'll be on my way. Naturally I ignore him.

He repeats again with unnecessary enunciation: "Exit. Only." OK, fuck you. I'm not about to be patronized by some dude in a position of dubious authority. I drop the gazebo, point to the "Exit Only" sign and say, "Thanks. I can read."

Yay. I'm at the fairgrounds for only 10 minutes and already I'm making friends.

The guy gets out of his golf cart, stomps over to me and shouts, "I don't need attitude from some little fucking obnoxious prick!" Whoa. I apologize, explain that I've had a rough day, and leave the area as fast as one carrying a gazebo can. You don't need attitude from me, and I don't need a fractured ribcage from you.

The rest of the event went well, but the aforementioned discourse served only to cement my hatred of suburban Maryland and its inhabitants. Or at least of mongoloids undeservedly wearing "Security" t-shirts. Your method of transportation is a golf cart, for crying out loud. Get back to me when your manager permits you to drive something that has doors.