Oh. My. God.
It has taken me three days to even be able to talk about this.
You are NOT going to believe what happened to me.
Until three days ago, there was only one other time in my life when someone, besides my younger brothers, tried to fight me. Now the count is up to two!!!
The whole thing is so surreal, it’s like a play. So, that’s how I’m gonna tell it:
Set Scene: (Snow and ice covered grocery store parking lot means that parking stall lines are totally covered, obsolete, all but forgotten since October. A man is struggling to get baby car seat into car because the narrow space between the parked cars is making it hard for him to completely open his car door.)
Me: (walking out of grocery store, notice man struggling with car seat on my drivers side, so I walk around my car and open my driver’s door from the front end of the car. As I’m getting in..)
Woman: (bucking toddler in from the driver’s side of her car, scowls through the open car doors) Thanks for parking so close to us.
Me: “Ya, the parking spot was really narrow. It’s a tight squeeze on both sides.”
Woman: I have a car seat .. (proceeds to show me with arm dimensions how big the car seat is)
Me: I have car seats too. I know that can be tough.
Woman: You Bitch.
Woman: You are a f*&$) bitch.
Me: WHAT? (normally, I have to say, I would get in my car and steam the entire way home. But, you know what? I TOO have been stuck inside for the past several months! SO … I get OUT of my car, and walk around to the back of hers, so that I am talking to her face to face. And, with my voice vibrating, I say,) Do NOT call me a bitch. ESPECIALLY in front of your children.
Woman: Park somewhere else. Bitch.
Me: What? The entire lot is full. I didn’t design the lot, and I’m not going to take the credit for it. (I really don’t know why I said that. I walk around to my car. And then I say thought the open doors,) When I run into this issue with my baby-seat, I back my car up so I can fully open the door, and then pop the baby seat in. Then, I pull forward, and load the groceries. (looking at husband) It’s even easier when you have two adults.
Woman: You f*&% b*$@%! (and starts running for me!)
Me: (dive into car and slam the door! She’s cussing at me thought the window of my car and hitting my car with her fists! I back up, and then stop behind her car the way you do before you pull forward and drive away … but then … something GOT INTO me! And, with my car blocking her car in, and her cussing me out from where my car used to be, I roll down the window and say…)
Me: Your behavior is out of line. I hope your day, and for that matter your life, gets MUCH better.
Woman: (Raising Fist) GO ON! GET OUTTA HERE!! JUST GET OUTTA HERE! YOU F*&^% B(*&&%#@#! GET OUT!”
Me: (compliantly drive away. And spend the ENTIRE next three days thinking of all the things I should have said! My favorite being,
ME: “SMILE! I’m a blogger! I can’t wait to show the world the kind of folks that live in Fairbanks!”
And then, right here, you’d see a photo of a short, plump, 20-something woman with a GIGANTIC mass of brown frizzy bangs and a bad perm slicked back into an exploding ball of pony tail, wearing an ugly purple-and-white 1980’s parka and tapered stone-washed jeans having an absolute shiffazle in the snow covered narrow parking stall in the Fred Meyers parking lot.)
— end scene —
DAMN. I can’t wait until next time.
Ready to Roll,
Alaskarella, F’n B.