This afternoon, I took my mom to the movies. We went to see Penelope. I thought it was great. I loved her watching men run from her and trying to believe that there really was one man who wouldn’t run away. (Totally loved the not-so-in-your-face parable about a girl cursed with a pig nose, and the curse would never ever be broken until one of her own kind accepted her and loved her as she was. Her parents tried to get her a nose job, but weirdly the carotid artery was in her nose, so cutting it would kill her. So, instead they made her stay locked in her house. Then one day, she found a guy who didn’t run after he saw her; she asked him to marry her — but he said no. So she agreed to marry the next guy who asked her — her mother said it was her only chance at happiness — but she decided not to. She had to venture out on her own, build her own life, stop hiding from the world and start doing the things she always wanted to do. Finally, she decided she was happy as she was, and poof, curse was broken. (Which is kind of the same, lame you-have-to-love-yourself-before-anyone-else-can-love-you self-help adage we’ve been hearing for centuries and centuries.)
Still, I loved it.
Mom and I walked into the parking lot, and there was a police car blocking my Solara, and a big group of women gathered around my car.
“What’s wrong with my car? Did something happen?” I asked.
A big fat woman started screaming at me about my bad parking job. Admittedly, it was a very tight parking space. But I was parked inside the lines. (Actually, on the driver’s side, one tire was a little bit on the line — the woman complaining was parked on my passenger’s side — she was the one parked over the line).
The woman was, fat and she couldn’t get into her car. Instead of climbing in through the passenger door of her giant SUV — she decided to call the law.
Who does that?
I have never ever heard of someone calling the police to complain about a car that was parked within the lines.
But, in Johnson City, Tenn. where my parents live — the police are so bored, they will come out to a scene of a not-so-bad parking job.
When we walked up, the women started yelling about my parking job. I told her I was very sorry, and I was happy to move the car so she could leave — but the police officer was blocking my car in. They turned to my mother and asked if she was in the car.
Yes.
Did you get out of the car after the car was parked?
In truth, she had not. The space was tight, so I let mom out of the car before I parked.
But my mother immediately started lying to the police officer. “Yes,” she said. Of course she got out of the car once it was parked.
The police officer took my license, registration and insurance information.
“Am I getting a ticket, officer?” I asked.
No, he said. But I have to write a report.
Then he handed all my contact information to the other lady.
Why?
He told us that we needed to call our insurance companies and let them know that we had been involved in an accident.
WHAT?
I wasn’t involved in a car accident. I was sitting in a movie theater with my mother.
That’s when I was told that the woman claimed that when mom got out of the car, mom dinged the door of the SUV.
When, in truth, once the car was parked in the space — the passenger door was never ever opened, so it is impossible that my car caused the ding. But, since my mom can’t ever be honest — we have a police report with her telling the officer that she had gotten out of the car that was very tightly parked, and thereby most likely hit it.
I asked if we could do a C.O.P.S.-style reenactment, open the door (that had never been opened) to show that the ding couldn’t be from my car. (It just didn’t look like it would hit in the right spot.)
No, the officer said. Then I’d have to write a different report.
2 responses so far ↓
Caroline // March 19, 2008 at 4:20 am
The big fat woman probably didn’t have other things in her life to worry about, so she decided to make a mountain out of the issue of your parked car, instead of the tiny molehill which it was.
How sad that people are so petty.
tanasie // March 24, 2008 at 8:19 pm
Yeah. I don’t know anyone who has the time to call the police, wait for the police to come, then make the police wait for me to eventually come out of the movie theater….
Leave a Comment