There used a store in the local mall for tabletop and card-gaming. Every Thursday was Yu-Gi-Oh Night, and my cousin and her husband used to go. I would sometimes show up to bum around the mall with my cousin whilst her husband played.
The crowd that attended Yu-Gi-Oh Night was a pretty wide group in terms of both age and subculture: You had some hardcore anime fans who proudly flaunted hats with cat ears on them, Naruto headbands, etc. You had Juggalos. You had kids too young to really identify with that kind of stuff, and you had guys pushing 30 in pretty normal clothes.
One night a couple years ago, the games seemed to go on particularly long (about thirty minutes after the mall closed), and afterward everyone was in a pretty weird mood because the manager of the store had (quite rightfully) yelled at all the players to clean up the empty chip bags and soda cans they left in generous proportions around the game room. One guy tried to walk out, looking pissed already (I’m guessing the luck of the draw hadn’t been kind to him that night), so the manager gave him his own private lecture.
I should probably mention that this guy had to have been over 30, but he was still rocking a Naruto headband and one of those deck carrier things the players wear on their arms in the Yu-Gi-Oh anime. He was very likely the oldest one there, and beat out all the other guys dressed in semi-cosplay by about 12 to 15 years.
By the time he was done getting a stern talking to by the manager for both his cleanliness and all-around bad attitude, everyone else was in the parking lot, slowly making their way to their cars or waiting for their parents. Nevertheless, Middle-Aged Naru-Gi-Oh booked it out to his car. He wasn’t running really, but walking quickly enough to pass everyone up. When he passed me, I could hear him cussing to himself under his breath.
He got into his car and revved the engine as best he could in a used Ford Focus, I guess in an attempt to express that he was a force to be reckoned with. Exploding out of his space in reverse with tires squealing, he left it up to everyone else to get out of his way while he zoomed through the lot at, going by eye, about 40 MPH. My cousin and I hadn’t really registered what he was doing and continued talking, so when he was close enough to realize the squealing tires weren’t the end of his temper tantrum, we literally had to dive out of his way.
Thankfully, he didn’t hit anybody.