it’s rare, but it happens.
this morning as I walked down to my car, puppy in tow, hands full of phone, coffee, and an apple, I noticed a large utility truck blocking the alley. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see if I could get out in the opposite direction, but the construction crew for my neighbor’s new expansion has completely taken over that end of the alley.
I saw the driver in front of me, standing beside the truck, looking at a paper. I waved my arm to get his attention, and nicely asked “hi! can you please move? you’re blocking the street.” he just shrugged his shoulders as if to say “tough shit”. at this point, I am already going to be late for work, and I’m starting to get irritated.
“sir! can you please move your truck? you’re blocking everyone in!”
this time, he turns to face me, with a big fat smirk and a mocking tone, he says “yeah, gimme 10.” and chuckles at me.
now I’m mad. as if I am scolding a child, I tell him “I need to get to work, you can’t block our street like this, you need to pull around to the loading area in front of the building, and park in the designated space there.”
nothing. no response. he reaches for his ringing phone, and proceeds to have a casual conversation, laughing to whomever is on the other line about “this loud chick” who is “in some kind of a hurry”.
I snapped. before I could stop myself, I was yelling “HEY! ASSHOLE!!” and throwing my apple at him, hitting him square in the shoulder, exploding on impact like some kind of apple bomb, little bits of fruit flying everywhere. he dropped his phone and stared at me for a second in utter shock before yelling “LADY YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY” to which I responded “YES I AM, NOW MOVE YOUR FUCKING TRUCK.”
and he did.