The snowdrifts are to the top of the parking meters that line one complete side of the Waterbury Green. This winter has made parking very difficult along the Green mostly because many of the spaces are taken up by piles of unclaimed fluff.
The city is also notorious for its clan of meter checkers. They fan their egos with books of half-empty ticket stubs. And they never miss a violation.
On this morning I thought I was destined to another go-around until at the last possible moment I spotted the last meter at the end of the line. I began lining up my car to back up and park. A white van appeared behind me and tried to nudge itself into the opening by forcing me to move forward to a spot where a “No Parking” sign replaced the meter. I continued backing up. He honked angrily. I backed up more. He pulled up to the side of me. He spoke angrily.
ONE HOUR EARLIER
I’ve become increasingly forgetful lately. After extensive on-line research I’m convinced that it’s a product of stress and worrying about a number of issues that we can explore in a future blog.
I had forgotten that I needed to do a couple of quick repairs on the snow-blower. I was running late but grabbed a few paperclips and some picture-hanging wire. I was able to address two of the three problems. Paperclips are not as dependable as they used to be.
I have a habit of placing items on the roof of my car while I put my work items in the back seat. Today it was my can of soda and gloves. The gloves were the first to fly into the street about a quarter-mile into my ride immediately followed by the can of soda. The can was launched into a distant snow bank but I recovered the gloves without further incident.
That’s not exactly the whole truth. I’d been listening to ESPN Radio on my iPhone and when I exited the car I’d forgotten that the headphones in my ears where still connected to the phone.
I’ve always preached how important it is to properly protect your phone. I like a rubber case. It was a rubber case that saved my two week-old iPhone from certain harm.
BACK TO REALTIME
So he parks in front of me.
Him: “All you had to do was pull up!”
Me: “But there’s no meter there.”
Him: “It doesn’t matter. The cops told me I can park here. It doesn’t matter.”
Me: “Believe me it matters and I’m not parking where there is NOT a meter!
Him: “Such an ass… man you don’t know nuthin.”
Me: “Just keep walking and deliver your meals BITCH!!!”
(I should probably mention that this idiot was delivering Meals on Wheels to people across the street. The cops and meter checkers probably all know his vehicle and let him park there during his deliveries. I know what you’re thinking, “OMG he’s picking on a dude delivering meals to the needy.” Well just so you know, a lot of these guys are doing it only because they need to do community service as ordered by the courts. So it’s not like I was picking on a 73 year-old retiree. This guy probably robbed a freaking bank at gunpoint and is now working his way back into society. As far as this story is concerned, the delivering of meals is of no real importance.)
Him: (Walking towards my car.) “Bitch? Who are you calling bitch?”
Me: “Well… I’m calling YOU Bitch… BITCH!” (The word “BITCH” felt powerful coming out of my clenched jaw. As kids we loved when Elton John’s, The Bitch is Back would come on the radio because during the chorus we could yell, “Bitch-bitch, the bitch is back – Bitch-bitch, the bitch is back.” And my mother would yell, “Stop saying that!” And we’d say, “But Mom it’s part of the song- he-he-he.”)
Him: “I’ll show you BITCH, you wanna see a bitch?” (His voice was WAY more intimidating than mine- it was deep and mean- like a guy that had probably spent hard time in prison- or something.)
At this point the Meals-on-Wheels ex-con tried to open my car door. I went into a defensive mode and after he get the door halfway open, I used my super powers that I’d acquired recently at the gym and won the struggle with this bitch and pulled the door shut! My heart racing, I quickly hit the lock switch and reached for my phone (as if I was reaching for a gun so that I could bust a cap in his ass). I wanted a picture of him but by the time I figured out how to use it, he was gathering his meals from his van. I did take several pictures of his getaway van along with the licence plate.
I was a little shaken at this point. I sat in the car hoping he wouldn’t take his anger out on a hungry Senior Citizen or wheelchair bound shut-in.
I alerted my office by text so that they could watch me from the 4th floor window in the event that this crazy murderer decided to come back after me.
TEN MINUTES LATER
I had safely navigated the mean sidewalks of The Green and was resting comfortable in my chair. I am not a confrontational person (OK well sometimes I do find it hard to back away from a situation where a really ignorant person thinks he can be a bully just because he feels like it).
THERE IS A LESSON TO BE LEARNED HERE
If you ever find yourself in a similar situation and your name and phone number are prominently displayed on large magnets on your car doors, remove them before calling another person a bitch.
But seriously, he was an idiot and had an attitude from the beginning. And I can’t help but wonder what the heck he would’ve done if he was able to pull my door open. I don’t doubt that we will meet again. Maybe I’ll break out with, “Bitch-bitch, the bitch is back.”