bitter experience

Damn.

I just came back from a late dinner with Emily — and encountered a bitter experience that involves driving skills, housewife, mockery, derision and vandalism. Here are the details of what happened (quite a lengthy post):

I was strolling along Carrefour’s big ass car park for a place to park and found a perfect one. As usual, I checked if there was anyone waiting for the seemingly vacant lot, you know, to avoid any conflict of interest. When the course was certified clear, I got myself ready to take the place.

But I didn’t know that a silver car (a Waja) was waiting to reverse into that lot, from about a good 20 feet away. I saw the car moments ago when I was scoping for conflict but, the car was too far away to look like it was reversing into the lot. It looked more like it was waiting for someone than anything, that was because it didn’t turn on its indicator, no reverse light, nothing.

I only knew that the car was vying for that lot after I have :
a) parked my car,
b) alighted from my vehicle,
c) did a few banters with Emily,
d) and walked some distance towards the hypermart…

I walked for about 10 feet or so, when I saw a lady in that freaking Waja engages the reverse gear. She was with a small toddler. When she realized that the spot was gone (only after she reversed 3/4 of the way), she turned her attention to me with a hostile look and started honking like I’ve just stolen the spark plugs from her placenta.

Not knowing what happened, I stooped low to check her out - you know, I thought she was in trouble or something. Maybe her son was chocking or, he tits got stuck on the steering wheel. Anyway, I was in for a surprise when I saw her giving me that mad gesture that I had parked her place, all the while honking like a mad bitch. Though I couldn’t hear what she was yelling, but I could clearly make out that she included a lot of profanities in her language. I couldn’t imagine what kind of parent she was to do that in front of her kid. I was pissed of course, and I responded back by gesturing ‘you didn’t put on your indicator, to let everyone know that you wanted the lot, you were waiting 20 fucking feet away!’

The bitch did not seem to care whatever I was gesticulating and was obstinate that she was in the right. Not intending to provoke that mad woman any further, I decided to walk away. But I she wouldn’t move on, and cars were starting to pile up behind her (because she reverse-positioned her car in such slanting way that it blocked the entire lane) and she was getting honked left right center. Eventually, she had no choice but to look for another place to park and that happened right before I was entering into the hypermart premise. But that was not the last I heard of her…

After returning from my dinner, I discovered 2 long fresh scratches on the hood of my car. 1st one was about 6 inches long, and second one, was about the length of my middle finger. I was so incensed when I saw those scratches…

What I couldn’t understand is - what had she achieve by vandalizing my car? 3 things:
1) to prove herself that she’s a fucking idiot.
2) set a bad example to her kid - “Look, mommy just scratched somebody’s car… how cool is that?”
3) expose herself the risk of getting walloped if she ever get caught of committing vandalism in public.

I was literally pissed, and I could have waited for the bitch to show up from Carrefour - I just wasn’t mad enough. I was planning to give that car a paint job anyway, or even sell it off in a few months - besides, the scratches were just minor additions to the collection of scratches I already had on my hood (bad neighborhood). But the story could have caused a different outcome if she were to vandalize my new Michelin tires instead. I would have gone postal to wreck every single silver colored Waja in the entire parking lot. And was glad that didn’t have to happen.

So what can I do now? Nothing, but to curse that bitch. I wish for her anus to rot and get infested with flesh eating maggots (hopefully, the same size of the scratches she induced) that will her ass off.

Lesson learnt: If you ran into any sort of altercation with another motorist, remember to jot that asshole’s car registration number down. Might be useful later.