Dear pretentious dickwad who parked his big ole Yukon all caterwampus up in my parking space,
That’s right, I said it to your face. Did you really think screaming and cussing at me would make me submit to your demands? Big scary man. I could rip your penis off with my pinky toe and feed it down your earhole. Yes, your penis must be that small to cause you to try to intimidate a woman under 5′ tall.
Oh, yeah, I was dressed for court so you must have missed the various multi-decades old ink indicating I have been around a while, and maybe part of a world that you didn’t know existed. Stupid of you really. Being 44, I am probably twice your age and was with my step-momma who isn’t as physically intimidating as my 6’4″ husband. For some reason, I don’t think you would have had the cajones to speak to me like you did had he been with me.
But you didn’t know…
That I have the super power of years of pent up rage on my side. I can take it up a whole three ‘nother levels without breaking a sweat, and tell you that if you don’t like how I’m responding then maybe you need to check YOURSELF. See, I was celebrating the unheard of granting of LIFETIME PROTECTIVE ORDERS, which are virtually unheard of, especially without a fight. But I’m a scrapper, and who I was up against has found that out the hard way. Once physically and now mentally. So you didn’t realize that when you continued yelling at me to give you my insurance card for a scratch as long as my pinky fingernail, and just as thick that cost you $200 to fix last time, and this is a BRAND NEW VEHICLE. Bitch, my Jeep has no scratches and is a year old. Why? ‘Cause I don’t park like a douche. See, my lil ole 2 door Wrangler was between the lines exactly (OCD a bit), and to the curb in front. It is physically impossible for me to have scratched the back door of your stupid Yukon. When I pointed out I had no black paint on my door, that it was impossible for that damage to occur and the “thonk” you heard was my door hitting your fucking side-mirror you tucked back so as to be able to squeeze your punk ass between the vehicles (which there was NO damage to) you couldn’t take it like a man.
Instead, you chose to threaten me with calling the cops and reporting me as a HIT AND RUN DRIVER!! FUCK YOU, we called the cops ourselves. Oh, all of a sudden you were too busy to deal and had food on your table? We let the cop know after we apologized for wasting his time. Said officer wasn’t so thrilled that you were so busy. He also thought your claim was bullshit. I explained if I had damaged your vehicle, we would have traded info, sang campfire songs, and kissed like Europeans. But no way was I paying some crazy deductible for a $5 paint touch up (less if I have a Sharpie in the bottom of my purse). He noticed and commented that most parking lots use painted stripes indicating the correct space to park in and that you could be ticketed. He calmly looked at the “damaged” spot you had clearly marked in a ring through the dust, licked his fingertip, and wiped it off. I almost fell over laughing. He even smiled with a twinkle in his eye. Then you came out…
He got serious again and asked you to show him the damage. It was great watching you struggle to do so mumbling to yourself, “uh, it was uh, um… wait a…” and even BETTER when he explained you couldn’t find it because he wiped it off with spit. HA!!! He then told us, “Ladies, y’all may leave and have a nice afternoon.” You’re so douche that you thought you were included in that as well. The officer had to sternly tell you to come back to him, because he wasn’t done with you.
Next time maybe you might think twice before picking a fight that you stand NO chance of coming out the victor. You may have been physically larger, but I have the stature of a goddess. I also don’t put up with bullies, and am done “playing nicer” after many years. Speak with respect and you will receive it. Act like a punk, and I will show you to be the coward you are.
Hope you had some lube in that Yukon,
Lil ole Me