Monday, November 28, 2005

Punk-Ass Kids, Part Two

So Saturday night I'm driving home from work around 9:30 p.m. or so and I stopped at a stop light that had two right-hand turning lanes. I was in the turning lane on the left.

(As an aside, have we decided yet that it's okay for me to kill Ashley? Because seriously. Okay, more on that later.)

Anywho, this pickup truck side-swiped me on the right side of my car, knocking my side mirror lose. This other truck pulled up on the other side of us, looked at the damage, and said there was no real damage and we could carry on to a gas station or something, rather than blocking the road.

When the light changed to green I went ahead and turned right and went about a block in search of a parking lot that was not completely dark in order to survey the damage. On the left-hand side of my car the same truck that hit me sped up next to me and the passenger was screaming, "Pull the fuck over, bitch! Pull the fuck over!"

So here I am at 9:30 at night after having just worked a long day in POST-THANKSGIVING HOLIDAY RETAIL and then being hit by a truck and now being accosted by some man. So, I pulled the fuck over (bitch) into the only parking lot available - which happened to have no lighting. I was really scared because of the darkness of the parking lot and I had no idea what was about to happen. I was about to call the police, but I didn't really want to have to do that if there was no real damage because then we'd be there forever and mostly I just wanted to go home and relax.

So I got out of my car and started making my way towards the men when I realized that they were not, in fact, men, but rather, boys. The kid that was driving came up to me and said, "Oh my God, please don't tell my brother. It's his truck and he'll kill me if he knows I hit something. Please don't tell my brother!" This whole time, that same punk that had yelled at me on the road was still yelling at me, calling me a fucking bitch and screaming things like, "Where the fuck did you go to driving school, bitch!? If you have an accident you don't just drive off, you fucking bitch!"

At this point, I could smell the alcohol on his breath, mostly because he was ALL UP IN MY SHIT, and that just forced me into an even more pissed off state. I was exchanging information with the driver when the punk yelled that at me so I paused in the conversation I was having and turned to the boy and said (quite calmly, in my opinion,) "Do you see how I'm not calling the police right now? Do you see how your friend just hit me and how I'm not calling the police? ARE YOU RETARDED?? No, seriously, ARE YOU RETARDED?!" (Okay, so maybe that last part was a little less calm.) I then informed the poor, drunken, retarded, SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD that I was in fact NOT "driving off", (bitch,) as he so stoically put it, but was in fact looking for a lighted parking lot in which to pull over so I wouldn't have to deal with DRUNK PUNK-ASS RETARDED KIDS IN THE DARK. Then I said something like, "Boys, I've been doing this a lot longer than any of you have so I suggest you all CHILL OUT." And I think I might have actually called him an asshole at this point. (We can't all be couth all the time.)

The driver was still pleading with me not to tell his brother at which point I said, "Look. I won't tell your brother if you'll GET YOUR FRIEND OUT OF MY FACE!" (By the way, there was a third boy but he mostly stood there looking baffled.)

So the driver told his friend to chill out and get out of my face yet he still refused to do so. At this point I finished writing down my information and I had gotten the information from the driver and I pointed out my phone number on the piece of paper and I told the boy that if his brother had any questions at all he should give me a call and I would be more than happy to tell him exactly what happened there that night. The boy got very scared and quiet at that point and so I told him he should seriously look into getting some new friends and then I turned around and got in my car and drove home where I took a shower and then met up with David and his friends and proceeded to get nicely, LEGALLY drunk.

May I just say for the record please that I've been driving for over twelve years and I've only had two wrecks in that entire time and both have been in Dallas? I lived in San Diego for four years, for gods sake, and never had a wreck (unless you count that unfortunate "car meets pole" incident...) And I've never, never been yelled at so much as I have been since I moved to Dallas. Maybe it's something in the air?

5 comments:

Addie said...

man, thats tough... I dont know what I would have done, but glad you handled everything so well

SerenitySprings said...

LOL...if by "well" you mean calling a teenager names...

Anonymous said...

You call everyone else names... why stop when you get to teenagers? ;P

fictionfiend said...

everything's bigger in Texas...including the egos and attitudes.
I think that's why there's so many asshole drivers...and assholes in general

gojiro said...

You may have had only two accidents, but damn, you've hit a lot of curbs. Just sayin'.

Oh, and you totally should have kicked the asshole in the nuts. That would have shut his suckhole.