When I was in college (1988-1994), I drove an old beat-up Volkswagen Bug.
One of the tires had a slow leak in it - and I had to fill it up with air everyday. The only FREE air-pump in Reno Nevada that I was aware of was in the parking lot of a Chevron station right next to a GodFather's Pizza.
The air-pump was directly in front of the store, and there were four parking spaces also in front of the store. Please refer to Figure 29-1A below.
One parking spot was devoted for those who needed to fill their tires with air. The one on the far left.
A friend and I were in my car - I had to fill the tire up with air - it was about 8:30 pm.
Very slowly - as is the law in parking lots, I crept up to the parking spot devoted for the use of the air pump (in figure 29-1A I would have been moving left to right).
Without warning, a teal-green Ford Mustang almost hit me. It originated in the parking spot on the far right (refer to figure 29-1A above). The tires screeched, and it almost hit me.
A young and beautiful woman with blonde hair was driving the very expensive sports car. I looked at her and wondered, "Does she need to fill her tire with air?" Based on the angle of her wheels, she had simply sped out of the fourth parking spot on the right, and not turned sharply enough.
She beeped her horn and threw her hands up at me - as if to say, "Come on, move it!"
I started putting the car into reverse to "get out of her way" and let her drive through the parking spots instead of the parking lot.
My friend said, "Dude, she's bein' a total bitch".
I was raised to be kind and courteous to everybody - regardless of gender. But I thought briefly:
At this point in my life - where has being kind to people gotten me - especially with women?
ABSO-F*CKING-LUTELY NO-F*CKING-WHERE.
This b*tch wanted to speed through the PARKING SPACES, not the PARKING LOT. I needed to fill my tire up with air. I drove a clunker, she is driving a sports car. She is getting in my face and demanding that I get out of her way - when she is clearly in the wrong for driving through the parking spaces.
"I done guessin dat dis drone needses to moveses his car so dat MISS Daisy Don Go Geddin Upset wit one of us here drones y'all".
SCREW THAT. NOT THIS TIME.
I took the key out of the ignition, and held it up in the window. I waved it back and forth - then threw it over my shoulder into the backseat. I then reclined my seat, and put my feet on the dashboard. My friend started laughing, then he did the same - reclined his seat and put his feet on the dashboard.
I was staring up at the ceiling of my car. My friend said, "Dude, HOLY SH-T! She is really pissed!"
I heard tires squealing. It was her inept driving abilities - backing up to go AROUND the PARKING SPACES as she should have in the first place.
I got out of the car, and started filling my tire up with air.
Once I was done, I heard a loud screeching of tires. I looked at the exit of the parking lot. The young woman was so angry she was peeling out.
As her car entered the road - the horsepower of the Mustang was too much for her to handle - she lost control of the car. She flew straight across the four lanes of traffic (all empty at that time of night) - and went up onto a curb across the street. Some sparks flew out from under her car.
Her car continued into the parking lot of the church across the street. She took out a small tree surrounded by a concrete pot. As she did this, more sparks flew out from under her car.
"HOLY SH-T!" my friend said with a laughing tone.
Her car was now making a sound like this:
JIG-IG-IG-IG-.....-CLUNK
JIG-IG-IG-IG-.....-CLUNK
JIG-IG-IG-IG-.....-CLUNK
"OH SH-T!" My friend was laughing out loud now.
She slowly pulled back into the Chevron parking lot. The incredible power of her sports car had been reduced to a loud clunking and grinding sound - I would guess that she could only "drive in idle" at this point.
My friend said, "Dude, a woman that good-looking - her pimp is probably in the back seat - and is gonna kill us."
I replied, "Or her rich mommy and daddy that bought her that car are going to sue us".
"Sh-t dude, we better get out of here" my friend said.
"Yeah - right".
We got into the car, and took the back way out - so as to be discrete.
We drove down the road for a while - heading to our destination (we were not in any hurries). My friend eventually said, "Let's go back there, and see what happened to her car".
"I don't want to get into any trouble".
"Come on, we'll park down the street and walk to it - its dark - she couldn't have seen us well enough - we can say we weren't even there".
"Hmmm - Alright".
We got back near the seen. My friend worked at the Godfather's next to the Chevron station (he was off this night of course).
Some Reno Police Officers were there.
My friend noticed two co-workers arguing with police and pointing across the street to the church. My friend talked to his coworkers at the Pizzeria. I smoked a cigarette. When he came back he said, "Dude, we need to talk to the police".
"Why" I asked.
"She told the police that somebody ran her off the road".
My face went white, "NO WAY - YOU'RE A WITNESS - I DIDN'T DO THAT!!! SHE FLIPPED OUT AND MESSED IT UP HERSELF!"
We walked to one of the police on the scene.
I gained some composure, "What happened here sir" I asked.
"It looks like a guy in a red pickup truck ran this woman off of the road", the officer stated. (At least she did not use my vehicle description for her bogus story).
My friend and I both started talking at the same time, "NO THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED........."
We explained to the officer what happened - her speeding through the parking lot, wanting to drive through the parking spaces, honking her horn at me, me holding the key up in the window - the pissed off look on her face - the burning rubber sounds, her losing control of the car during her hissy fit etc... There was no "red-pick-up" that ran her off the road.
The officer said, "Okay - that confirms the story of the Godfather's workers. Two of them saw the incident - then witnessed her making a phone call from the payphone in the restaurant - crying and asking somebody what she should do".
"Why is she lying" I asked.
Officer: "Her insurance rates would skyrocket - that is reckless driving - and - I am guessing her insurance policy - or her parent's insurance policy does not cover reckless driving - so she or somebody else would have to pay 100% of the damage costs."
I found out that the officers on the scene were going to take her word over the testimony of TWO PEOPLE - men - the Godfather's employees.
The morals of this story:
That woman was clearly prettier than me or my friend (sigh) - and therefore came to the insane, idiotic, retarded conclusion that she was more important and "higher up" than either of us. In her warped, deranged, retarded and psychotic mind, she had every right to tell me to "get the hell out of her way" - even though she was in the wrong for wanting to drive through parking spaces rather than the parking lot.
Since I did not show complete cooperation to one of the deranged Matriarchs, the result was a complete psychotic meltdown, accompanied with some extremely self-destructive behavior. Just imagine if there were many cars driving, or people in the parking lot across the street... She obviously had no concern for anyone of anything other than her own sense of self-righteous indignation.
The police were willing to take a pretty woman's story over the story of two men. It took FOUR men to discredit ONE woman's story. The two men's stories were more coherent and detailed than the woman's story (i.e. she crashed, then made a phone call, crying and asking somebody what to do - that person obviously told her to LIE). The two Godfather's employees had no reason to lie. She did - and from their testimony that should have tipped the police off that she was lying - they did not care - they still were going to choose HER BOGUS STORY over TWO MALE WITNESS'S TESTIMONIES.
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