Me getting called a ‘Faggot’ this weekend. Normally, I would just laugh this off, but there were circumstances I wish to fill you in on.
I’m getting back from my failed attempt to go to the Church of the Holy High-Speed Projectile on Sunday. I’m driving around in Grimm, because I find scaring the locals to be fun, and I pull into the local gas station to fill ‘er up.
As I roll alongside the forward most pump and turn off the rumble, I hear someone yelling. It’s coming from my left side and it’s definitely a dude, but even from the height-advantaged viewpoint of Grimm’s cab, I can’t see anyone.
Then, as I reach over to grab my wallet from the glovebox, I see that there is a woman, early 20’s from the looks of her, sitting in the driver’s seat of a tan/beige compact car. Next to her, in the passenger seat of the car, I can see a pair of legs belonging to a dude.
I drop down to the pavement and walk down the side of the bed to the gas cap and look across. Yep, it is the dude in the beige car who is yelling. I hear him say “and if you buy (unintelligible), I’ll fuckin’ smash you in the face with a bottle”. The woman gets out and I see that her face is swollen with the sort of pink blotchiness one gets from having cried for a good, long time.
Due gets out and starts pumping the gas. He’s staring directly at the pump, as though it was going to cheat him or something. She comes back out of the store and gets into the front seat of the car.
I’m seeing red, as you can well imagine, and I really want this bastard to turn around. I have no idea what started the argument I walked in on; maybe she lost the paycheck at the casino or maybe this guy just has a thumb-dick.
I don’t know.
But I do know you do go doing this crap in public.
Dude dosn’t turn around until he soon finishes with the gas pump and gets back into the car. I have set the locking lever on the pump handle and begun washing the windshield by now, still mentally fixated on this situation.
As I’m squeegeeing the drivers side of the windshield, I hear the car start up and see dude yell something else unintelligible at her and she shakes her head. I walk over to do the passenger side of the windshield and as I cross between the headlights the car rolls away.
I look at the car, dude looks at me and yells “Fuck you, faggot”.
I’m not easily shocked, but this came pretty close to doing it. I had a paper towel in one hand and the squeegee in the other, so I couldn’t even get a one-finger salute off and my complimentary return “fuck you, asshole” apparently came too late for him to hear because I got no reply from it.
Now, he committed no act of violence in my presence, and even if he had, past good samaritans in Washington State have faced legal penalties for interjecting themselves into domestic situations (not that that knowledge would have necessarily stopped me from interceeding had he done something).
About the only thing he is guilty of was being an asshole in public which, unfortunately, is neither a crime nor painful.
Again, IÂ have no clue as to what the situation was before I rolled up next to it, but I do know I truly wanted to stop pumping my gas and follow the prick, illegal as that is. The feeling I got from having watched heard just that little bit of the exchange, seeing the reprocussions of it, and not being able to shit about it, is really what pissed me off. If you try calling 911, they’ll tell you to mind your own business, and until he starts wailing on her, all you can do is watch.
I could have yelled something across the lane to him, but what? “Hey jackass, why don’t you knock it off and leave her alone?” Not very powerful stuff there. And again, I’d be interceeding in a situation I know nothing about.
Not that I run into this situation often or anything, and I’m not suggesting that you’ll do either; but does anyone have a similar tale and/or maybe a solution that doesn’t consist of either completely ignoring it or pouring gasoline on the prick and setting him alight?
http://www.ndvh.org/
Site for domestic abuse for all fifty states. Normally they have a line you can call in and they can take care of the situation, legally. Though personally I endorse the illegal fist+jaw=justice approach myself.
Hey, ya gotta watch your back on that situation. While immediate gratification demands a bitch-slap; who says she won’t knife you? People are weird.
If I removed every dirtbag that my sister let abuse her in the last thirty years I’d be a mass murderer. That chick will wise up or she won’t. Yea, I’m a touch cynical today.
Back when I was living in Memphis and was riding my Yamaha Maxim 1100 down Winchester Ave., I was stopped at a light when a Z-28 with a guy and a gal pulled up along side of me.
They were obviously in the middle of a fight because she was sitting in the passenger seat, turned toward the door and looking out the window with that female “I’m pissed at my man” look, and he was going off on her loud enough for me to hear him with my helment on in the next lane.
Then she looked up at me and smiled, so being the southern gentleman that I am, I smiled (not that she could see it under the full-face Bell I had on), nodded and waved at her.
Well, Mr. Dickhead Boyfriend/Husband happened to look over at the same time and saw me wave at her and lost it. He slammed the car into Park and got out and jumped over the hood cursing and telling me he was gonna kick my ass for putting a move on his woman. Before I knew it, he had closed on me and started swinging as I was trying to get off the bike to defend myself.
The first blow caught me in the side of the head. Apparently, Mr. Einstein had neglected to notice that my head was wrapped in over $200 worth of impact-resistant resins and padding. The high pitched girlie-scream and the instant swelling of his hand told my trained paramedic eyes that he had fractured several bones in his hand.
As he stood there holding his FUBAR paw in the middle of one of the busiest intersections in Memphis, the light turned green and I just looked at her, shrugged and took off, figuring that I couldn’t do anything more to make him pay for being an ass and attacking me without facing tons of questions and paperwork from the P.D.
I just took satisfaction from knowing that he was facing a couple of grand in medical bills, a couple of months of pain and discomfort and a neverending stream of his woman throwing the incident back in his face every time he acted like an ass.
I would have asked the woman if she needed help … while pretending to ignore the jerk.
If she said “no”, I would drop it … I won’t stand between a masochist and her “date”.
If he tried to attack me, I would have to shut him down before anyone gets hurt … I have every right to contact individuals … once a blow gets thrown or attempted, things change.
Acting in my capacity as trained zero, I pronounce Kristopher’s advice the best.
Of course, if you’re a mega-man like Kris, and probably packing a .480 Ruger, you would have no worries. YMMV
We have a lovely situation here where a felon’s about to get out of prison and his girlfriend — our employee — is desperately trying to get restraining orders in place.
Problem is, the guy’s apparently in prison for breaking her hands repeatedly and trying to run her over in the parking lot of her LAST employer — but after the DA went to the trouble of having several cops testify about the creep, when the girlfriend got on the stand, she recanted everything and said it must have been an accident, etc., so instead of 12 years in prison for attempted murder, the guy got 5 months for disturbing the peace. Understandably, the pissed-off DA rescinded all the girlfriend’s existing restraining orders.
Now I have an employee making a credible case that this guy’s going to show up in our office looking for her so he can beat her senseless for making him go to prison in the first place. Here in Cali, it’s apparently possible for a business to obtain a restraining order against someone. I’m thinking about getting one — even though our employee seems to have done this to herself — because in addition to her, I have a duty to protect the rest of our employees, who might get hurt if this guy shows up and tries something. Looks like I’ll have to become an expert on this area of law in the next few days.
Anyhoo, if this bastard shows up, the receptionist has a code to alert me, and we’ll call the cops. But if he tries violence, while we’re waiting for the boys in blue, he’ll find he’s come to the wrong office.