Dear Black Cadillac Escalade,
From the archives:
Dear Black Cadillac Escalade,
That parking space was mine.
I waited, patiently for that person to pull out of that stall. I followed all of the protocol: drove around the parking lot, found someone leaving, put on my blinker, smiled as she strapped her two kids into the car. That space was mine.
Then, you come charging into the lot, like a blonde bat out of hell, and try to steal it from me. You were even going the wrong way! They teach you how to follow the direction of an arrow in first grade- maybe you should go back. They also teach you how to play nicely with others.
I am still in shock at you rolling down your window and wagging your finger at me while shouting, “I don’t think so! You are NOT getting this space!”
“This is my space,” I said. “I’ve been waiting here patiently.”
I edged my front wheel into the stall, and to my astonishment- you did the same!
Our bumpers were a hair apart.
Then you screamed (and I mean sca-reamed), ” What are you gonna do? Hit my car? Go ahead! I dare you. I dare you to hit my car!” And you actually started edging your car forward.
Your head was shaking to and fro and your hair was a fury of angry highlights. I was quite taken aback, and caught a quick glimpse of your little girl in the back seat. I looked at my son in the rear view mirror, and thought for a split second: This is not appropriate behavior for two mothers in a playground parking lot.
I thought this for only a second because then you stepped on your gas, and I realized you were trying to hit my car! That you were going to smash your way into that parking stall.
Then my face got hot.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” I yelled. I put my car in park, because at that moment, I think I thought (maybe) I was going to get out of the car. I don’t know if I really would have. I am the least confrontational person I know. But at that second, I forgot I had a kid in the backseat. I was all shaky, my cheeks were on fire, I felt accosted for no reason, and yes- I wanted to do something about it.
And my friend who was with me lightly put her hand on my arm and said, “It’s not worth it. It’s really not worth it. Just back up.”
And I listened to her.
I put my car in reverse, and I backed all the way out.
Then my lovely friend (whom I adore for this), shouted to you, Escalade lady, “You know, I feel real sorry for your child!”
You then, decided to feel all victorious, slam on your gas pedal, and jump the curb to get into your “prize” parking spot- tires squealing and everything.
A man who had witnessed the whole thing, actually saved a spot that had just been vacated, and waved me over to it. I thanked him and he said, “Dang that woman’s crazy.”
Yes, Mrs. Black Cadillac Escalade, you are crazy.
Even though you came to me minutes later, with tears in your eyes and apologized.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve had a horrible day. That was so uncalled for. I’m sorry.”
I told you I appreciated your apology, because I did. It takes guts to admit your wrong.
But that was all I could muster to say as I walked away with my friend and my son to have a good time.
Because I don’t forgive you.
You were insane.
You were wrong.
But most of all, you brought me very close to becoming like you. And I don’t like that.
Because I’m not.
I’m even tempered.
I’m a class act.