The Driver of the Chevy Blazer
Well, that was less than fun.
Right now I'm sitting at the Denver (Hampden Branch) Library under the pretense of getting some work done. You see, I don't have an office - I work from wherever is convenient. Sometimes it's here, sometimes it's another library and sometimes it's one of various coffee houses or sandwich shops near wherever I happen to be at the moment.
Usually it's a library. This particular branch is incredibly noisy (from the staff, not the patrons), much more so than a library should be from what I can recall being taught in elementary school. Hell, as I sit here along the far north wall I can hear the staff on the other end of the building joking and laughing with one another.
But I digress.
On my way here I had to drive on a 6 lane highway. It's a state highway, not an interstate. I was in the far right lane and knew my turn was coming up in about a mile so I checked my mirrors and turned my blinker on so I could move over and move over again to move into the far left lane for my turn. A late 80s/early 90s model Chevy Blazer (dark red, faded over the years) was behind me and to the left, enough space to move over, but not enough to give me room to enter. So, I waited, either for him to back up or speed up; either way, giving me some indication of his intent so I could plan accordingly.
He didn't move. There was about two car lengths between him and the vehicle in front (a truck pulling a car hauling trailer). Since my turn was coming up quickly I decided to go ahead and squeeze into the spot, knowing as I did so that I'd only be there for a few moments as I gauged the next lane over for merging.
So, I pulled into the space. I was about to wave thanks to the man in the Chevy (a white male in his late fifties or early 60s) when I look in the rear view mirror and see him throwing a fit: both arms up in the air, alternately throwing me the bird, and screaming at the top of his lungs. Deciding to ignore him I start to check my left mirror for lane availability when the man in the Chevy speeds up, coming dangerously close to my bumper. He doesn't hit me, he merely acts like he's going to, as if to scare me.
Little does he know me. I don't scare easily.
Unfortunately, I'm not in my truck. Instead, I'm in a friend's sedan. So, I check my mirrors again and turn my blinker on to let everyone around me know what my intentions are. I find a space to get over and one quick look at my mirror shows me the man in the Chevy getting over, either to cut me off or to follow me - I don't know. So, I come back over to the center lane and so does he,
Now I know he's following me. At the next red light, which was my turn and I"m in the wrong lane, I come to a halt, pull up the parking brake and exit my vehicle. The man is smiling and waving his phone at me as though to say he's already called the police. I didn't care.I approach his window, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You cut in front of me!" Really? That's his problem?
"Fuck off, dude! I had my blinker on! You didn't give me space or move over so I used the space I had!"
"That's okay! That's okay, you fucking asshole!" he screams back at me. "You fucking driver!" I should probably note, the man spoke with a really thick eastern European or Russian-type accent.
I notice the light has turned green and I'm now blocking the center lane, so I jump back in the car and pull forward. I know another turn about a half mile up the road that will get me where I was going just fine. A little out of the way, but just fine. So, I change lanes. The man changes lanes behind me. I move back over and he follows me again. I can see him in the rear view mirror with his hands up, throwing me the finger again, screaming and yelling, pointing for me to get over.
He wanted me to pull over. Fine.
At the next light I pulled into a strip mall's parking lot and park in the first available spot. I'm out of the car and waiting for him before he's even parked. Another car, a small SUV pulls up behind him. Did he have a friend?
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yell as he exits his vehicle. For the first time I'm seeing how big this guy is. Don't get me wrong, I'm just shy of 6 feet and and wear a 48" jacket, but this guy had to be at least 4 inches taller than me and built like someone who does physical labor. In other worlds, he wasn't fat, wasn't feeble and looked like he could hold himself in a fight.
I was having second thoughts about not calling the police to meet me at the strip mall.
But, I held my ground. A guy in a white or silver full size pickup truck drove by, "Hey guys. I wouldn't fight here. There's a dozen cops on the other side of the store there."
"Thanks," I say. "Come on," I look at the guy in the Chevy. "Let's go get a cop to deal with this." He starts to climb back into his truck. "No. Come on. You were the one who was slighted, let's go get a cop." He didn't budge.
From the other, smaller SUV, stepped a man a little younger than me. He had darker skin, maybe Latin or Mediterranean, "You need to back off," he says to the guy in the Chevy. "I was behind you the whole time, you're the one who was wrong here and then you started acting like a fool. This guy," he said indicating me, "used his blinker and came over fine."
"Fuck you! He cut me off!"the man said.
"No, you were driving like an asshat," the younger man said.
"Come on," I said. "Let's go. There's cops over there, let's go get one." Now he really looked scared. A witness justified my driving and condemned his.
"You don't know what you're talking about," the older man said to the younger one.
"Yeah I do. I was behind you the whole time. I saw the whole thing." I was just about to ask him to be a witness when he said he had to go. The older man climbed in his Chevy and gave me one last profanity before rolling up his window.
"I don't know why you're yelling at me," I said loudly enough for him to hear me. "You're the asshat here. Even other people saw that!"
That's when I re-entered the car and drove off. I thought the man would follow me some more but he didn't. And sure enough, when I pulled around the building, a half dozen police cars as well as a couple of fire department trucks were responding to something.
So, what's the point of all this? Many people will advise someone in my situation to just walk away - it's not worth it to get more involved. But that's not true. Sure, a vast majority of the time you should walk away. Fights aren't worth the black eyes for the most part. And yet, there is a accepted social contract for living in a modern society. In short, it says to be respectful and courteous to those around you.
This man was neither. I had my blinker on (respectful to those around me) and I waited to give him a chance to react by either slowing down, speeding up or moving over one lane. Instead, he waited until I began to make my move to pull up and try to prevent me from changing lanes. Then he had the nerve to start flick me off like I was the jerk. [Did you bite your thumb at me?] [Yes, I did bite my thumb at thee] ~ Romeo and Juliet, paraphrase.
If you let people walk all over you, you'll wear and tear like a well used doormat. Eventually you'll be too dirty and worn to serve much good at all. The problem is, we've become a nation of weaklings. If you stand up for yourself you're a bully, if you take it, you're a pushover. It doesn't matter if it's your home life, work life or life on the street. I'm not saying we all need to be baring arms, ready to go guns blazing at the slightest provocation, but we shouldn't let others push us around. Stand up to your boss. You may lose your job, but you'll have your dignity. Stand up to your spouse. It may ruin your marriage, but that means you're marriage wasn't strong to begin with. Don't be afraid to say something to that guy who jumps in line or that person talking during a movie.
I promise, if you're thinking it, someone else is thinking it as well.
What's the saying, Well behaved women rarely make history? Let's adjust that a little: well behaved anyone rarely make history. Because being "well behaved" generally means being subservient to the perceived power structure. It means conforming, not daring to color outside the lines.
Stand up for yourself. Be comfortable and proud of who you are. But don't be a dick. That's just uncalled for.
Right now I'm sitting at the Denver (Hampden Branch) Library under the pretense of getting some work done. You see, I don't have an office - I work from wherever is convenient. Sometimes it's here, sometimes it's another library and sometimes it's one of various coffee houses or sandwich shops near wherever I happen to be at the moment.
Usually it's a library. This particular branch is incredibly noisy (from the staff, not the patrons), much more so than a library should be from what I can recall being taught in elementary school. Hell, as I sit here along the far north wall I can hear the staff on the other end of the building joking and laughing with one another.
But I digress.
On my way here I had to drive on a 6 lane highway. It's a state highway, not an interstate. I was in the far right lane and knew my turn was coming up in about a mile so I checked my mirrors and turned my blinker on so I could move over and move over again to move into the far left lane for my turn. A late 80s/early 90s model Chevy Blazer (dark red, faded over the years) was behind me and to the left, enough space to move over, but not enough to give me room to enter. So, I waited, either for him to back up or speed up; either way, giving me some indication of his intent so I could plan accordingly.
He didn't move. There was about two car lengths between him and the vehicle in front (a truck pulling a car hauling trailer). Since my turn was coming up quickly I decided to go ahead and squeeze into the spot, knowing as I did so that I'd only be there for a few moments as I gauged the next lane over for merging.
So, I pulled into the space. I was about to wave thanks to the man in the Chevy (a white male in his late fifties or early 60s) when I look in the rear view mirror and see him throwing a fit: both arms up in the air, alternately throwing me the bird, and screaming at the top of his lungs. Deciding to ignore him I start to check my left mirror for lane availability when the man in the Chevy speeds up, coming dangerously close to my bumper. He doesn't hit me, he merely acts like he's going to, as if to scare me.
Little does he know me. I don't scare easily.
Unfortunately, I'm not in my truck. Instead, I'm in a friend's sedan. So, I check my mirrors again and turn my blinker on to let everyone around me know what my intentions are. I find a space to get over and one quick look at my mirror shows me the man in the Chevy getting over, either to cut me off or to follow me - I don't know. So, I come back over to the center lane and so does he,
Now I know he's following me. At the next red light, which was my turn and I"m in the wrong lane, I come to a halt, pull up the parking brake and exit my vehicle. The man is smiling and waving his phone at me as though to say he's already called the police. I didn't care.I approach his window, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You cut in front of me!" Really? That's his problem?
"Fuck off, dude! I had my blinker on! You didn't give me space or move over so I used the space I had!"
"That's okay! That's okay, you fucking asshole!" he screams back at me. "You fucking driver!" I should probably note, the man spoke with a really thick eastern European or Russian-type accent.
I notice the light has turned green and I'm now blocking the center lane, so I jump back in the car and pull forward. I know another turn about a half mile up the road that will get me where I was going just fine. A little out of the way, but just fine. So, I change lanes. The man changes lanes behind me. I move back over and he follows me again. I can see him in the rear view mirror with his hands up, throwing me the finger again, screaming and yelling, pointing for me to get over.
He wanted me to pull over. Fine.
At the next light I pulled into a strip mall's parking lot and park in the first available spot. I'm out of the car and waiting for him before he's even parked. Another car, a small SUV pulls up behind him. Did he have a friend?
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yell as he exits his vehicle. For the first time I'm seeing how big this guy is. Don't get me wrong, I'm just shy of 6 feet and and wear a 48" jacket, but this guy had to be at least 4 inches taller than me and built like someone who does physical labor. In other worlds, he wasn't fat, wasn't feeble and looked like he could hold himself in a fight.
I was having second thoughts about not calling the police to meet me at the strip mall.
But, I held my ground. A guy in a white or silver full size pickup truck drove by, "Hey guys. I wouldn't fight here. There's a dozen cops on the other side of the store there."
"Thanks," I say. "Come on," I look at the guy in the Chevy. "Let's go get a cop to deal with this." He starts to climb back into his truck. "No. Come on. You were the one who was slighted, let's go get a cop." He didn't budge.
From the other, smaller SUV, stepped a man a little younger than me. He had darker skin, maybe Latin or Mediterranean, "You need to back off," he says to the guy in the Chevy. "I was behind you the whole time, you're the one who was wrong here and then you started acting like a fool. This guy," he said indicating me, "used his blinker and came over fine."
"Fuck you! He cut me off!"the man said.
"No, you were driving like an asshat," the younger man said.
"Come on," I said. "Let's go. There's cops over there, let's go get one." Now he really looked scared. A witness justified my driving and condemned his.
"You don't know what you're talking about," the older man said to the younger one.
"Yeah I do. I was behind you the whole time. I saw the whole thing." I was just about to ask him to be a witness when he said he had to go. The older man climbed in his Chevy and gave me one last profanity before rolling up his window.
"I don't know why you're yelling at me," I said loudly enough for him to hear me. "You're the asshat here. Even other people saw that!"
That's when I re-entered the car and drove off. I thought the man would follow me some more but he didn't. And sure enough, when I pulled around the building, a half dozen police cars as well as a couple of fire department trucks were responding to something.
So, what's the point of all this? Many people will advise someone in my situation to just walk away - it's not worth it to get more involved. But that's not true. Sure, a vast majority of the time you should walk away. Fights aren't worth the black eyes for the most part. And yet, there is a accepted social contract for living in a modern society. In short, it says to be respectful and courteous to those around you.
This man was neither. I had my blinker on (respectful to those around me) and I waited to give him a chance to react by either slowing down, speeding up or moving over one lane. Instead, he waited until I began to make my move to pull up and try to prevent me from changing lanes. Then he had the nerve to start flick me off like I was the jerk. [Did you bite your thumb at me?] [Yes, I did bite my thumb at thee] ~ Romeo and Juliet, paraphrase.
If you let people walk all over you, you'll wear and tear like a well used doormat. Eventually you'll be too dirty and worn to serve much good at all. The problem is, we've become a nation of weaklings. If you stand up for yourself you're a bully, if you take it, you're a pushover. It doesn't matter if it's your home life, work life or life on the street. I'm not saying we all need to be baring arms, ready to go guns blazing at the slightest provocation, but we shouldn't let others push us around. Stand up to your boss. You may lose your job, but you'll have your dignity. Stand up to your spouse. It may ruin your marriage, but that means you're marriage wasn't strong to begin with. Don't be afraid to say something to that guy who jumps in line or that person talking during a movie.
I promise, if you're thinking it, someone else is thinking it as well.
What's the saying, Well behaved women rarely make history? Let's adjust that a little: well behaved anyone rarely make history. Because being "well behaved" generally means being subservient to the perceived power structure. It means conforming, not daring to color outside the lines.
Stand up for yourself. Be comfortable and proud of who you are. But don't be a dick. That's just uncalled for.
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