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| PHOTO BY LEIGHANN LORD |
While my aging and ailing Honda Civic is in the
shop getting some impromptu but very necessary repairs I had to rent a car. At
30 minutes to closing I took what was left on the lot, which happened to be an
adorable, red Fiat 500 Sport. With an aversion to calling things by a number
instead of a name – that perhaps hails back to Star Trek Voyager’s character, Seven of Nine – I’ve taken to
calling my Fiat 500, Jellybean. With a car this tiny, food shopping at Costco
is out. However, from a parking perspective, Jellybean is perfect for New York
City. But not everybody is a fan.
While I was stopped at a light someone pulled up
next to me, rolled down her window, and screeched, “Get that shit off the road!
You’re holding up traffic!” At least I think it was a she. Her face was so
contorted with rage I couldn’t swear to a positive gender or species
identification. A futile attempt to smile and wave at the creature only provoked
it further. She put her car into park – in a lane of traffic – and yelled, “I’m
going to throw something at you!”
What do you say to something like that? “Hello,
Dear. Weave too tight?” So I shrugged my shoulders and gave her my best “I’m
sorry” face. And I was sorry, sorry that I didn’t have any raw meat to throw
back at her. I was sorry I didn’t have a stun gun. I didn’t even have so much
as a human-to-crazy bitch dictionary app on my iPhone. And naturally, Siri was
not available. So the best I could do when confronted with that level of lunacy
was to placate it.
It would’ve been useless to point out to this not
so beautiful mind that I was doing the New York City street speed limit, which
is 30 miles per hour. According to Jellybean’s speedometer, the car can get up
to a jaunty 140 miles per but who could afford the ticket? Although, I was
prepared to floor it and putter away should the violent vixen have listened to
the voices in her head and escalated the confrontation.
It was also not worth mentioning to the jabbering
gargoyle that stopping to share her passionate opinion with me slowed down
traffic more than Jellybean ever could. That information might have pushed her
over the edge, and it is so not cool to get your ass kicked over a rental car. I
was happy when the harpy made a left turn at the next corner and we motored off
in different directions. Me to spend time with friends, her – I hope – to get therapy.
She needs it.
This un-delicate flower was lucky that it was me
she chose to have a mini meltdown with. Not in a “let me at her” kind of way,
unless of course furious pouting from an opponent is her Kryptonite. What I
mean is she was lucky she didn’t run into someone who ate fruit loops like her
for breakfast. She was lucky she wasn’t in Florida and pulled that stunt on someone
who opted to stand their ground by putting her six feet under it. It happens, you
know; everyday. It leads the six o’clock news and it still sells newspapers –
albeit fewer of them – everyday.
The luxury of time and distance has allowed me to
feel sorry for this fellow human. Her fury was so out of proportion to the
imagined provocation that I know she must dealing with issues much bigger than my
little Jellybean. You never know what someone might be going through in their
life, what burden they labor under, what medication they’ve forgotten to take. I’ll
never know for sure, but I’d bet money that this poor person was running late
to a court-ordered anger management class. And if she wasn’t, she will be … very
soon.
The Urban Erma, the longest running column on StageTimeMagazine.com, was created and written by stand-up comedian Leighann Lord. Listen to the podcast on iTunes and Stitcher Radio. Watch the video edition on YouTube.com. If you enjoy The Urban Erma please leave a comment, Like it on Facebook, follow on Twitter, And share it with your friends. (Share it with people who are not your friends and maybe they will be.) TheUrbanErma@gmail.com Get her free e-books of The Great Spanx Experiment and Sometimes I Wish Facebook Had a Hate Button.
3 comments:
I enjoy your sense of humor in this piece and in general - following you on twitter is always a laughing matter! Stay YOU! ;)
This is hilarious, yet sad, Soror. This type of lunacy happens all the time, as you mentioned, and while I know that those of us with whom it happens are disarmed at the time, it's best to simply let crazy go and cool off somewhere. Or simply let nature take its course.
You go girl! We got a whole boatload of them out there--half of them are off their meds and the other half are on somebody elses meds.
When I was pastoring a former church in a not-so-urban area of Tennessee, I was listening to a preacher on the radio--he was having difficulty with plain-ol' proper English, and then he tried to put a King James spin on it to boot--during the tirade, he said, "Maybe if you wives were more submissive, your husbands wouldn't beat you..." We ain't safe from them anywhere--not on the highways or the airways.
Keep up the good work and God bless--your Tennessee cousin,
David Lord
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