Thursday, July 18, 2019

He's a Slammer, He's a Rammer, He's a No-Thank-You Wham-Bammer

What, exactly, is wrong with people? Seems like I've asked this question before, resulting in various opinions.

Wednesday, I had just parked T-Hoe at Orb K. I was perfectly within the lines of my parking space. Pretty sure if you got out and measured, the tires wouldn't have varied more than a centimeter difference in their distance from each side line. I had no need to park crookedly. I was in my preferred space, the one where my door opens up into the yellow-striped handicap lane where the sidewalk is ramped.

I like that space, because I don't have to step up on the sidewalk. It's not a designated handicap space. That's the one across the striped walkway. Has a wheelchair painted on the pavement, and one on a sign in front of it on the building. My space is up for grabs, for any degree of abledness.

I was grabbing my phone off T-Hoe's console when I saw the Slammer pull into the space on T-Hoe's right. That kind of surprised me, because the car in the space past that was encroaching on the line, leaving this empty space a bit tight. Yet here was a newer model gray SUV pulling in. Just as I glanced at it, the driver opened his door.

OPENED IT RIGHT INTO T-HOE'S MIRROR!

Rammed his gray door up against T-HOE's black side mirror. Thump! As he did so, he looked right into my eyes. I guess he didn't expect me to be sitting inside. His look was like, "Crap." Not an, "Oh, crap! That door got away from me! Oops!" Not an, "Oh, crap! She saw me do that! She's gonna say something!" Just a, "Crap. I got caught."

Slammer climbed out of the car and moseyed inside, all decked out in the local uniform of dark t-shirt, untucked into old jeans. He was joined by another such clad dude, perhaps a brother, as they both had the same not-quite-shaved short haircut without a part. Not that there's anything wrong with that. People can wear their hair any way they want. Slammer looked neither like a fancy-pants entitled snob, nor a tattooed ex-con. Just a regular guy, perhaps mid-to-late twenties.

I don't think any damage was done to T-Hoe's mirror. I didn't walk around to look. There wasn't much room between the cars. There were 8-10 other parking spaces available, but Slammer chose that one. It's not even a big deal, since the glass remained in T-Hoe's mirror, focused as before. He IS a 2008. Not pristine. Has some hail damage. Always dusty or muddy from our gravel road. It's just the IDEA of Slammer ramming his door into the mirror, and not even giving the sorry shrug, or saying anything as I climbed out as he walked by.

To rub salt in my out-of-joint nose, while I was in line inside, Slammer got in line right behind me. Yeah, I know, what was he supposed to do, leave without paying? I don't mean that. I mean that Slammer got in line RIGHT BEHIND ME. Like, looking over my shoulder behind me. I swear his breath moved my lovely lady-mullet. And he was off to the side a bit. So when I looked over at the scratcher display leaning against the front window to my left, I saw how close Slammer was to me, in my peripheral vision.

What, exactly, is wrong with people these days? Can they not judge personal space or distances between cars? And common courtesy is growing more uncommon by the day.

12 comments:

  1. Maybe he was trying to intimidate you are start a confrontation. Now I would have liked to be a fly on the wall.

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    1. I think he just felt entitled to slam his door into my mirror.

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  2. He did not know how close he was to death, or at least a severe tongue lashing.

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  3. The days of the "thank you" wave, or the "My bad" heart thump are short lived, never mind door holding, or hat tipping.

    I would never have a key on auto scraping accident with such people...well hardly ever.

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    1. If you had been riding shotgun with me, you could have reached out the window with that key and done your business, his car was so close. Accidentally, of course.

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  4. What a shame you couldn't find a reason to step back "accidentally" onto his foot while simultaneously elbowing him in the ribs. Perhaps you could very politely ask him to please back off and stop breathing in your ear? Or just give him a death glare.
    Some people just have no idea of personal space.

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    1. No need to give him a permanent disability of the foot, when he already seemed to have one of the brain. As for space, Orb K is not even close quarters like The Gas Station Chicken Store. There was no need for him to be in my hip pocket.

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  5. Some people! They are oblivious to how close they are to body or property. I figured you would have at least given him the teacher evil eye.

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    1. I didn't want to risk a rumble, in case my stink-eye has lost its power!

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  6. "I do believe the words you are searching for are - I am sorry that I banged my car door into your car, ma'am." I would have said to the young man. Someone has to teach him some manners! I give of myself like that.

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    1. If you and JoeH were with me, that dude would have had an attitude adjustment. And maybe some minor paint damage.

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