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?