— Spinster (@SpinstersC) June 10, 2011
And on the other hand, without a gun they can’t get none
But don’t let it be a black and a white one
A few days ago, my job gave me a courtesy car. I got a parking ticket within hours of getting it because I had no idea that I couldn’t park in front of my damn house without a permit. As annoyed as I was about it, nothing that happens with this car will probably top the shit that happened today.
I left home to get to work and would’ve been on time had this situation not happened.
I turned on the street needed to get to the main street. While driving on the left/wrong side of the road is confusing, it only takes a day or two to get used to it, depending on the driver. (Blog post about my 1st drive on the left/wrong side of the road later.) So I drove and tried getting on the junction that turns into 3 or 4 lanes and goes on the main street. As I did, a van pulled up on the side of me and damn near hits me. The driver honked at me and purposely braked. As a result, I held the horn and honked for a long time (probably over 10-15 seconds). He kept braking on purpose and I kept honking.
Then suddenly, and I didn’t realize this at first, the driver stopped the van. He got out of the car, came up to the car, called me a “fucking cunt” and goodness knows what else, and spat toward me.
You read that correct. He spat towards me. Had he come 1 or 2 steps closer, the spit would’ve landed on me.
I was absolutely furious. I rolled down my window and said “Fuck you! I’m calling the police.”
It just so happened that the driver was pulling into what (I think) is a hardware store just a few feet away from where this happened. I pulled in right next to the van and called the police while he walked into the store as if nothing happened. I can’t remember everything I said, but I do remember describing the driver and giving the license plate number on the back of the van. As I was speaking to the operator, the driver tried to talk/yell at me. I got loud and started crying angry/frustrated tears.
“How fucking DARE YOU spit at me. I’m not from here. You wouldn’t know that because you were too busy fucking spitting at me! Fuck you! How fucking DARE YOU! You don’t fucking spit at me!”
And I just kept talking. Meanwhile, the operator tried telling me to calm down and speak to him, but I wasn’t paying much attention. Also, someone who works in the store tried to come out and get in between us, but I moved away from that person. I wasn’t trying to get physical so there was no point for that person to get in between a goddamn thing. The driver, being the asshole that I’m sure he is on a daily basis, said
“I didn’t spit at you! Where’s the spit?”
“You fucking liar. You didn’t spit at me? You’re a fucking liar. How fucking DARE you.”
The police pulled up and I got off the phone with the operator. One officer spoke with me and at this point, tears were still pouring because I was furious and I felt helpless. If I was home, I’d feel a hell of a lot better standing up for myself, especially since the police at home carry guns while the toy cops here don’t (except certain teams & under certain circumstances). I told him what happened, explaining to him that even if I did cut the van off, I didn’t mean to because I just began driving here a few days ago. In the meantime, another officer attempted to move my car out of the way. (It’s a hybrid and he didn’t know what he was doing, so I moved it myself.) The one officer I spoke with, went over to the driver and spoke to him.
The driver lied.
The officer came back to me after speaking with the driver, who admitted that he cursed at me & called me names but lied and said that he never spat. I said
“Sir, I have no reason to lie. I wouldn’t be sitting here crying in another country, lying about this. I’m telling you, the man is lying. He spat at me.”
The officer looked on the car and said
“Well, I don’t see anything. He must have bad aim. Did any land on you?”
Me: “No sir. But had he come a step closer, it would have.”
I remember the officer asking how long I’d been driving. I said
“Here or in general?”
“Just a few days. My job gave me this courtesy car a few days ago. But I’ve been driving for years, sir.” (Because if I was a shitty driver, that’d justify the driver being a scumbag & calling me a fucking cunt & spitting toward me. Right.) The officer also said that “independent witnesses” and the driver said that I kept honking at him, the driver admitted to cursing at me because I was honking at him, and – here’s the kicker – the store workers said that he’s a regular customer at the store. My response:
“Of course they’re gonna vouch for him! It’s me against them! I’m telling you officer, he’s fucking lying. I don’t care what he says to those people, he’s lying.”
“Was anyone else in the car with you?”
“No sir, I was on my way to work.”
At some point, the officer said that the police wouldn’t do anything about this situation. “We’re just gonna take everyone’s details. I’ve given him a warning. Is that okay?”
“No, but what can I possibly do.”
“How would the police handle this if you were back in the States?”
I was too upset, and trying a bit too hard to hold back extra tears, to give an answer. I just shrugged and said “I don’t know.”
He asked if I needed a ride home because I wasn’t in a good state to drive, and I said no. I was still close to home so it was pointless. Besides, nothing would help anyway. I got in my car, reversed & turned, and the officer went to block traffic so that I could get back on the road.
As I waited for the officer to block, the driver walked to the van, looked at me until he got into the driver’s seat, and smirked at me. I was too upset to say something aloud like “Fuck you” or “Don’t let me see you in the street, scumbag”, but I damn sure said it in my head. When traffic stopped, I told the officer that he was smirking because he knows he was lying about spitting. I drove back to my house, still crying, and parked.
Since I don’t have a parking permit yet, I went around the corner to pay for parking for an hour until/unless I could find a side street with no permit needed. When I came back to the car, a traffic officer was in the process of writing a ticket across the street from the car. I said
“Sir, please don’t tell me that you’re writing a ticket for that white car.”
The motherfucker stared at me for a minute, then asked me not to shout at him. I was visibly upset and (by this time) had a headache, so shouting wouldn’t help with the headache. (In other words, I wasn’t shouting at the motherfucker.) I told him that I wasn’t shouting & wanted to know if he was writing that ticket for my car because I’d just gone around the corner and had proof that I paid for parking. He explained that I had to park right in front of the ticket box and couldn’t park on my street. I was too upset & furious and felt too helpless & disrespected & low to argue with the motherfucker, so I just said “I can’t win. Ever.” and walked to my car with more tears.
I parked in front of the stupid box for about 1/2 hour and cried while trying to gain back some composure. My co-worker D, who I called & spoke with a few times during the situation, called me again and told me to try finding a parking spot on a street with no signs, if I could gain enough composure to drive. I waited a few minutes, drove off, and was lucky enough to find a street near my house where it’s unnecessary to have a parking permit. My American colleague’s husband called me to see what happened (I’d asked D to speak to her at the office) and I cried some more, then I slowly walked back to my street. A walk that’d normally take 2-3 minutes, took 10 minutes because of a mixture of tears, headache, and feeling like shit.
I stayed home for the rest of the day; despite taking a nap, my headache lasted all day and throughout the night. I tried calling family back home, but of course, no one was available. That made me feel abandoned & even more helpless. I was so annoyed that no one was there for me, I decided I didn’t even want to talk about it any more. I didn’t, and still don’t, feel like rehashing the story over again. That’s most of the reason why I’m writing this entry: all of your answers are here.
But it’s never that simple though. The rest of the week hasn’t been all that wonderful either. To be continued in another blog entry…..
This entry was posted on June 10, 2011 by Spinster. It was filed under blogging, expatriate, hassle, work/career and was tagged with abandon, abandonment, anger, colleagues, cries, cry, crying, disrespect, driver, drivers, driving, foreigner, foreigners, frustrated, frustration, help, helpless, low, officer, officers, police, police officer, police officers, postaweek2, rage, road, road rage, solo, tears, unexpected, United Kingdom, United States.