Dear Crazy People With Cars in Parking Lots, I’ve been witness to a whole array of crazy people with cars; people of all shapes and sizes and all varieties of nutty. I have been a victim of road rage on several occasions. Admittedly, I am not a stellar driver. In fact, I am one of those people that you hate because I always realize too late that I’m in the wrong lane and then apologetically stick my head out of my window and ask you to let me over. Normally this occurs when I am outside my comfort zone, which pretty much includes most of Mid-Michigan and all of West Michigan. Don’t hate me. I don’t know where I am.
However irked you may be, outlandish acts of anger seem a bit unwarranted. The following reactions seem a little melodramatic: failing your arms in anger, yelling obscenities, threatening to punch the other people in their privates and murder their kittens, actually getting out of your car and yelling at their closed window at a stop light. Like, relax a little, will you? We’re all going to get where we’re going. No one stole your first-born. It might have been an accident. Maybe their dog just died. Chill out.
I have often been afraid that the man cussing and throwing his hands in the air (like he just don’t care) is going to pull out a 45 and shoot my tires and then me. I’ve spoken of the bizarre way in which people react to construction (and the satanic devilcones), but I have not addressed a prime environment for crazy people with cars: the mall parking lot.
I'm going to tell you a story. I was at a mall over Memorial Day Weekend with the intent to take my MacBook Pro in to be fixed. So, I am scouring the lot for a space like the other 20 cars searching for a spot in this lot teeming with cars. I am chugging along looking left and right when I spot a couple with hoards of packages making their way back to their vehicle. So I follow them to their car like a predator stalking its parking lot pray. I wait for them to get into their car.
While I’m waiting and bobbing my head along to Britney, a car pulls in front of me on the wrong side of the road and cuts me off. This annoys me. I make a face at the car like, “MOTHAFUCKA, can’t you see I was here first?” (To be performed in a Jenna Marbles’ voice) Several young male teenagers with their pants down to their knees pass my car and giggle at my reaction to being cut off by this car. They motion for me to take their spot. I laugh that they saw my "whattheeffareyoudoing" face and pull up to take their spot. Crisis averted. No need to murder this CutterMcCutterson with my eyes. I wait as they make their way into the vehicle
In the mean time, CutterMcCutterson realizes that the couple lugging packages to their car was there to make a drop-off before booking it back to the mall to make additional purchases. Rick rolled. Oh well, sucks for you CutterMcCutterson. You have bad parking Karma for swooping my space.
So I’m in a good mood again, blabbering to my passenger when BAM! Here comes CutterMcCutterson again pulling in front of me on the wrong side of the road to steal my parking spot. Okay, NOW this is just getting ridiculous. Not only is this car, once again, absconding with my prized parking spot, it is blocking traffic. I feel like a dick because no one can get around us while this dumb dumb has lodged himself in the middle of the lane on the wrong side of the road. So, I hum and haw and move along to find another spot. I complain to my passenger and am starting to get frustrated, but it is just a parking spot. I will find another.
I make my way around the lot. Right as I am about to turn, I notice that my teenage sag-ers are backing out in front of CuttyMcCutterson. I have a very small window of time to make a decision. Do I steal my parking spot back? Do I do the responsible thing and just let it go? I have difficultly ordering off a menu for fear I might order the wrong thing and that the world may end because of my poor choice, so most of the time indecision gets the best of me and I miss my opportunity to act. However, I am feeling gutsy today. I swoop in and steal it back. I pull into the spot giddy with excitement. BOOYAH, CUTTY! I got the spot, I got the spot! I do a little victory jig in the Jetta before realizing that there will probably be consequences for my rash and somewhat immature decision.
The driver, who I small refer to as Little Red for his small stature and ginger hair, is now yelling. I ask my passenger to look back and see what is going on. We don’t get out of the car. We wait for them to leave. They don’t leave. We wait 5 minutes, but they’re still parked behind my vehicle. Little Red sends this lady friend to my window. The lady friend is wearing a jean skirt from circa 1999 and an Aeropostale belly shirt circa 2001. I judge her. She walks up to my window and motions for me to roll it down. At this point, I’m like, “AWESOME, this girl in this ugly skirt is going to poke me in the eye with her stupid finger and leave me here to die.” I roll down the window.
“Uhm, we were waiting for that spot!” She declares with her hands perched on her hips.
What is she attempting to accomplish here? Am I supposed to back out of the space and give it to them? No one does that. I stare at her and then laugh, “Dude, you cut me off twice. You were on the wrong side of the road. I simply took back what was rightfully mine. Sorry.”
She rolls her eyes at me and stomps back to her car while I giggle, elated that I was able to stand up to ugly skirt girl. I wait for ugly skirt girl to get back to her vehicle and then, thinking that the altercation is over; I turn off my car and prepare to get out. But no, Little Red is still screaming at the top of his little lungs things that people should not yell in public. Little Red is threatening to beat my butt, which only makes me laugh harder because this guy is the size of a lunchbox. A small one, a Dora the Explorer one.
It should be said that I do not recommend laughing at visibly angry people. It only makes them angrier. Little Red looks like he is going to burst out of his little head. The other cars that witnessed Little Red and I’s parking spot feud have gathered to watch. At this point, he has been parked behind my car for almost 10 minutes. I finally get out of my car. What is Little Red going to do? Beat up a girl? He yells, “STUPID C***!” at me before zooming off to cut someone else off. I remain calm, shaking my head and laughing, embarrassed that I have caused such a ruckus in the Somerset parking lot.
So, to you Angry/Nutty People With Cars in Parking Lots, why are you so angry? Why soooo serious? What has your boxer briefs in a bunch? And let me leave you with this questions, "WHY ARE YELLING AT ME?" (Wedding Crashers references get +1)
PS- Has this ever happened to anyone else? Are there really angry people all over this world or do they just follow me around?