Caterwauling

Heh heh heh

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Look at the puppy. The puppy is cute, yes? All is well when you’re hanging out with a cute, furry little puppy. That is why we are looking at the puppy.

That’s George, by the way, my beloved fur-nephew — ready to come home after a lovely weekend in St. Auggie’s. He’s also the one who took a smelly shit in the copywriters’ office on Labor Day when I brought him in here so I could get some work done in silence. Whoops — who knew he would go upstairs all by himself? What a big boy! (And frankly, I’m not surprised that he picked the spot he did. Just sayin’.)

This has been one motherfucker of a week. I have a meeting in 9 minutes as a follow-up to another meeting and we’ll probably schedule another meeting to meet about this one. Motherfucker!

Seriously, I like my job. I have just had some stressful days, and my “Oh, you haven’t done that, either?” list is longer than my list of reasons why I want my mother to move out.

Today I got a call from my boss that she was in an accident. And to start the 9 a.m. meeting without her.

It was 8:53 and I was cruising along the A1A. Meeting? FUCK!!!

So I punched the gas and a cop going northbound PROMPTLY did a U-turn and pulled my southbound ass over.

One of my team members (because clearly nobody was going to make it to this meeting!) advised me to unbutton my shirt. Which I did. The speeding ticket? Was waived.

However, genius still hasn’t registered her car in Florida. And my tags are three months expired. My friend JB let me know that at six months, I could get arrested. Whee! Thank God to have a cop-in-training for a friend!

So yeah, that ticket was warranted. It was hilarious though, as I got the same ticket in Virginia and it was like $300. This was $115. I asked if I could pay cash right then and there.

I also put on my makeup while I was pulled over. I am a multi-tasker, yo!

Got treated to a lovely, lovely dinner last night. Discovered a tasty “baby Amarone” that Mama Like. I appreciate people who can sense my stress and actually do something about it other than antagonize me. (Thank you, thank you!!!)

I’ve been too busy working to really plot my next move. But my beloved Lady L (George’s mom) and I are cooking up a scheme. We are also planning a Christmas trip, and another for St. Patty’s Day.

In other words, this is all just a dream. It’s not particularly memorable, and nor do we need for it to be. Each day is just a bridge to the next great experience.

I don’t remember much about anything anymore. And that says something. But I have all the hope in the world that as long as we can keep smiling and stay nimble, the wind will blow us exactly where we’re supposed to be.

I decided to roll up to the Bed Bath & Beyond in Rockville, Md., as it is was my favorite location of that store. And I will gladly give away all my BBBY discount coupons to anyone who wants ‘em, ’cause I ain’t going back there.

The store’s fine and delightful. It’s the customers who’ve turned me homicidal today.

I was having a perfectly pleasant day till I pulled into the parking lot. As I was pulling in, a car was leaving. It was too awkward to pull in and I didn’t want to block traffic, so I waited till the guy left (I went past the spot) and backed in.

It was a first spot — the type of spot I never get. The holy grail of parking spots, if you will, during this ridiculous holiday season. (Whoever said we’re in a recession clearly hasn’t shopped in Montgomery County lately.)

So anyway, I needed to straighten the car because I didn’t pull in very well. And this raving lunatic cunt who had wanted the spot — and CERTAINLY felt entitled to it — because she’d been behind me, decided to park right in front of me. Like, BLOCkING ME IN.

I figured she was trying to be intimidating. But you know, for all the spots that have been stolen from under my nose, and for all the assholes who went through the four-way stops when it was my turn to do so, and for the dumb bitch at the previous parking lot (Old Navy) who took SO FUCKING LONG to vacate a spot that I just simply moved on to another one, I wasn’t exactly concerned that I had ruined her day.

So I was fussing with stuff in the car. I wasn’t getting out. She and her two kids all shoved their ugly faces out of her window and GLARED at me. I looked up once or twice and went back to rooting around in my purse for my BBBY coupons.

After I’d wasted at least five to seven minutes and a Beltway-sized traffic jam was consuming Congressional Village, I finally looked at her. With a big smile.

She wasn’t going anywhere and those ugly, surly faces still stared back at me.

I shrugged and said, “What?”

She yelled that I am a “very rude and inconsiderate young woman who TOOK MY SPOT.”

I said, “And?”

I mean, WTF, right? I couldn’t pull out WITH HER BLOCKING ME IN. And God forbid I get the good spot so I can run right and use the bathroom quickly, since my bladder has the capacity of a shot glass. GOD FORBID GODDESS GETS A FUCKING BREAK ONCE IN A WHILE.

She kept saying — with EXAGGERATED PATIENCE — what a terrible person I am. I liked my spot but I admit, I was afraid to get out lest the cunt whore would dent it. In retrospect, I realize it’s already dented so what’s a little more damage?

And seriously, the traffic jam was out of control. So I figured, fuck it. Even though she was convinced I was the Antichrist, I would be the better person and leave the spot.

I debated ramming her. I really did. If she wanted to prove a point, so could I. I can out-cunt any of you cunty cunt bitch whores out there. Don’t test me. That’s all I’ve got to say.

In fact, I did turn on the car. Ugly whore and her ugly kids were all still giving me the same ugly look. I hoped God would freeze their faces like that. Of course, maybe those WERE their faces. Who knows?

I thought OK, maybe fat bitch couldn’t waddle very far. I was trying to be nice (that was as close as I could get). My fat ass might be healthier and could stand to walk a little farther.

Now, I refuse to be intimidated. But as I debated about whether to ram the whore or to actually tell the fucking cow to move her ugly family out of my goddamned way, I figured it just wasn’t worth it. She seemed perfectly happy to park there for the next two hours. And I’m sorry, I gots shit to do. (Well, more like “piss” to do, but whateev.)

So she’s still telling me how little she thinks of me in her extreme-calm voice. I yelled. “Fine. How do you expect me to move if you keep sitting there?”

So she moved the car in reverse, creating even more chaos in the parking lot. As I drove by, I yelled, “Since having this spot is so FUCKING important, enjoy it!”

She yelled back in a “nice” voice, “You’re such a rude person.”

I said, “Oh yeah? Well FUCK YOU.”

I of course could not find a spot in the rest of the lot but her very-able ass walked into the store with her two kids (who were middle- and high-school aged) just fine.

I did park and did make it into the store. I noticed I was walking around with a very tight fist. Don’t make me use my left hook on you. My rings alone will cause some dents. And if my jewelry breaks on your face, it’ll only piss me off more.

I did see those dumb bitches in the store. And you know, factoring out their ugly faces in mine in the parking lot as they BULLIED ME out of my spot, they actually could have been considered attractive.

And instead of punching them (I wasn’t seeking them out, I promise! They just happened to be blocking me from leaving an aisle. Now who’s rude and inconsiderate?), I decided to feel sorry for those kids.

I’m sure the mother was trying to make this a teachable moment to stand up for what you feel entitled to, and to use intimidation as force and to never, ever raise your voice.

Misguided, much?

I’m always bemused by people who resort to name-calling and insult-hurling when they are out of other options to resolve a situation. I can just imagine them cussing me out long after I’ve laughed them off. (Laughing *at* them, let’s be clear, not *with* them.)

I know that’s what wounded people do — pitch a bitch and use foul language to express their frustration. It’s not a grown-up way to handle a situation, but I hate to say, I understand feeling like you’ve just got to let people *know* how much you hate them.

And yes, that’s what I did here. But anyone who knows me, knows that swearing is just a way of life. I have so few vices — don’t take my “fuck” word away from me.

And maybe I *am* growing. I did not tell her how I plan for her to perish. (I’m thinking fire, as in DIAF.) I figured someone THAT intent on proving a point to her kids probably didn’t curse much. I was actually going to yell, “And by the way, there’s no Santa!” but I certainly didn’t want to ruin it for the GOOD citizens of MoCo just because this twat nozzle was worthy of that and so much more.

Although I was HIGHLY tempted to go let the air out of the tires of her silver Nissan — Maryland plate M542627 — I figured she can stay smug all she wants to but I’m still the better person for not feeling the need to inconvenience the City of Rockville to prove a point or try to intimidate someone who is just trying to get through a day, too.

I admit I was annoyed to see all the crap in their cart. Her family is having a Christmas. Mine isn’t. I ain’t got shit to celebrate. Thanks for taking away my joy for the brief amount of time I allowed her to do so. Whore.

Again, I’m trying very hard to think that maybe she simply needed to win a battle (that didn’t have to be one) to feel whole and good and not take it out on her kids. I dunno. I’m not feeling overly sympathetic right now. The way I look at it, I solved a traffic jam that she created. I got some exercise. And I was too annoyed to really shop and therefore didn’t spend any money in the store.

So, really, didn’t I emerge the winner in this?

But if anyone sees that car on the road and just so happens to cut her off, hit her as she’s traversing a crosswalk, or otherwise shove a large Christmas tree up her ass, color me grateful and know that I appreciate that more than anything Santa could bring!

D.C. denizens are familiar with the four-year-old Hands-Free D.C. law in which you can never, ever have a cell phone IN YOUR HAND whilst driving unless you’re dialing. Fine. So, we all have our Bluetooth or other ear-adorning devices, yes?

So I was rolling over to Alexandria, Va., today, with the iPhone that is permanently glued to my hip. And I usually don’t wear my earbuds (you know, the things that COME WITH THE PHONE), but since I was trying to meet up with some friends and the game plan was getting modified, I opted to keep the earbuds on just in case.

And, yes, I had music on, WHICH IS APPARENTLY A FELONY IN VIRGINIA.

I have to tell the story because I resisted being pulled over. Twice. And lived to tell about it!

I took the GW Parkway straight into Old Town. The whole time I was on it, there were three cops boxing me in. One in front, one to the left, and one behind. I was NOT happy.

I was going about 55 in a 40. But I figured the asshole to my left was still half a car length ahead of me, so as long as I didn’t outpace him, he couldn’t pull me over. I even memorized his car number — I wasn’t going down for speeding when I wasn’t going the fastest!

I noticed the cop behind me went to pass me (go for it). He got beside me and then suddenly dropped behind me. Hmm. Bizarre. I slowed down by about 5 mph and figured he’d get annoyed enough to pass me for real.

He didn’t.

So we get into Old Town, and there was a light turning red. I went through the yellow and I know it had to be red for the cop.

He went through it.

I stopped for the next light, and the fucker turns his lights on.

I pulled over behind where another cop was parked. He pulled behind me and sat there. I waited and waited and I figured maybe he was pulling over to go hang with his other cop friend (the one I’d been beside). And since I wasn’t worried about breaking any laws because my halo’s been on straight for a while, I pulled away.

Yes, I PULLED THE FUCK AWAY.

And he FOLLOWED ME.

At dinner, my friends were stunned that I hadn’t been incarcerated at this point. Who pulls away when they’re getting pulled over? But I figured, he was taking his sweet time getting out of the car — maybe I wasn’t the one he was trying to pull over?

So he pulls me over AGAIN a block later.

OK, fine, now I’m just pissed off.

I kept easing my car off the street, onto a side street. I hate when these swinging-dick cops pull people over and jam up traffic for a half-hour. He starts saying something on his little intercom but my windows were up and I couldn’t hear him. So I boldly (stupidly) threw up my hands in the rearview mirror and said, “What? Why?”

I should have just been shot on sight for that. But seriously, LOOK AT ME. I clearly am confused about this so make some eye contact. Is that so much to ask?

So I went one step further and took out the earbuds, undid my seat belt and started to get out of the car.

Yeah, I’m an idiot.

He boomed at me to get back in, which I did. At which point he moseyed out and said, “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

I said not really, which was why I was quite confused whether he meant for me to pull over or whether he had gotten an emergency call and was flashing the lights for some other reason.

He said, “You’re driving with earbuds.”

I was shocked. “Yes?”

“That’s against the law in the Commonwealth of Virginia.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Does your radio work, ma’am?”

“What?”

“‘Does. Your. Radio. Work. MA’AM?”

I looked at it. “Um, yes?”

“Then why aren’t you using it?”

“Because I turned it off when you pulled me over?”

“And your seatbelt’s not fastened?”

“I took it off when I went to get out of the car?”

I wasn’t nervous, but I kept making statements like they were questions. Normally I just shut up and accept my damn ticket, but after being stressed the fuck out from being boxed in by three cop cars for 10 goddamned miles, I assumed we were playing reindeer games so I was just being myself.

“License and registration.”

Now that, I could handle.

“Ma’am, it is illegal to have things dangling from your rearview mirror.”

I looked at the Yankee Candle scented doo-dad CAR AIR FRESHENER hanging from the window. “Seriously?” I said as he wandered away.

I was pissed off enough to yank it down and rip it into a dozen pieces. I also turned on my damn radio since he was so interested in whether it worked.

He came back when he was ready. “Ma’am, when was the last time you had a ticket?”

I thought back. “I dunno. Maybe a year?”

He almost snickered. “Oh, you think a year?”

I said, “I really don’t know the time frame. It was at (blah blah) intersection. I was speeding.”

He said, “It was six months ago, ma’am.”

Enough with the “ma’am” shit. GAH.

“OK,” I said.

“You don’t want another ticket, do you?”

“Um, no?”

“Ma’am, it is illegal to listen to your iPod while driving in the Commonwealth of Virginia. I can give you a big ticket right now for that.”

I was confused. “But this is an iPhone.” I showed it to him. “The earbuds are so I can answer the phone and talk hands-free.”

He glanced at it. “Ma’am, two earbuds are illegal. You can only have one earbud for receiving calls.”

I knew I was angering him but hey, I wasn’t exactly having the time of MY life, either. “But this is what comes with the phone. They have two. Are you saying that I can drive with the earbuds if I only have ONE in my ear?”

If he could have slugged me, I don’t doubt he would have thought about it.

“Ma’am, are you aware that people can download music onto those iPhones and listen to it?”

“I’m familiar.”

“Were you listening to music when I pulled you over?”

“Yes.”

“So you were using it as an iPod.”

“I was using it as an iPod as I waited for a phone call. So you’re saying that I can just wear one earbud, then, if I’m not listening to music?”

He just grunted.

I wasn’t done.

“So, if I get pulled over again and I’m only wearing one earbud so I can get calls, would I be believed that I really only HAD one earbud in? I mean, I will do that from now on but I don’t want to get pulled over again if someone thinks I’m breaking the law. I don’t want to break the law, Officer.”

“It’s Virginia law, ma’am, to only be able to wear one earpiece for receiving calls. Yes, you can wear one earbud,” he conceded.

“Great! Do you happen to know what Maryland’s law is about that? Because I wear both earbuds there when I use the phone and I’ve never run into any trouble. I don’t want to be breaking the law there, either.”

I think he was about to hand me a ticket, but because he did not KNOW the answer to my dutiful-citizen question, he said, “I suggest you go onto the Internet and find that out, ma’am. I can only speak about Virginia law.”

He gave me my license back, looked at my radio approvingly, and saw that my Yankee Candle thingie had been removed and thanked me for that, and I was on my way.

I guess I should read up on state law before I travel. I mean, wow, am I the only iPhone owner to be considered a menace because I was using the device AS APPLE INTENDED?

Now, I know I was a pain in the ass. I also know I was resisting a police officer … twice … by continuing to pull away from him. Meanwhile there were people being murdered over in Del-Ray, but the iPhone Earbud Felon was stopped dead in her tracks. The streets of Old Town Alexandria are safe again!

My pastor’s wife came to chat with me before services started. It’s eerie how much information this woman holds in her head about all of us, me included. The questions she thinks to ask, the things she follows up on from several weeks/months ago, the armchair psychology she can perform … it’s astounding that either she’s that brilliant or I’m that memorable. Or, both.

Anyway, she told me I looked great today. I just said thanks and she guessed pretty much every reason why. It was nice to have someone share in my little stack of joys. Hey, it’s a little stack, but it’s still a stack nonetheless!

Speaking of all things (not) joyous, I just paid my latest traffic ticket online. And not only did the form remember my information from the last three tickets in the past six months, but it also ends with this nice, friendly message:

We look forward to serving you again.

Yes, I’m aware you are thrilled at the idea of siphoning even more cash from my coffers that could have gone toward charity or, OK, alcohol, but still.

You know how you can serve me? By eating me. Jesus H. I don’t need an invitation to come back soon, mmkay? Am already a frequent guest, can’t'cha tell?

The more I think about my speeding ticket, the more annoyed I am.

The cop looked at my license and tsk-tsked at me. “You should know better,” he said.

I looked at him blankly. What, that I had five tickets on file for speeding already?

He repeated, “You live in D.C. You should KNOW better than to speed. You KNOW we’re out here trying to keep our streets safe.”

Although I was in a foul enough mood to say it, I did NOT articulate, “You should KNOW not to be a fucking douchebag when your dick is within punching distance.”

Douchebag. He should know better than to walk in front of a moving vehicle that’s going 50 mph and to patronize the driver. I assure you, if I could have found a way to “accidentally” run over his foot, I would have!