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B*tch

Somebody called me that today…yeah me…a b*tch. I’ve never seen this person before, I’ll never know if I’ll see this person again because I couldn’t tell you what he looked like, but he ruined my day for several hours because he yelled a profanity at me!

Here’s the scoop: I was driving down the little frontage road in front of the store; you know, the one that has traffic going both ways and that parking aisles all come off of…the main thoroughfare through the parking lot, I guess you’d call it. A man was walking toward the store and needed to cross the thoroughfare, he was walking slowly and hadn’t even entered the thoroughfare yet so I continued driving seeing as how he had to completely cross the other lane before getting to me. He was never closer than 5+ feet to my car, he never stopped walking or slowed his pace because I was in his way, BUT he yelled “B*TCH!” at me!

Does this seem right? There were several cars behind me, was I supposed to stop and wait for this man to even get to the thoroughfare? I would have waited if he’d been close to me! I’ve waited for countless people to cross in front of me, but this man wasn’t close enough to be in front of me, beside me, or even near me. But in front of everyone in that parking lot he called me a b*tch! It’s silly, I know, but it really bothered me. It was personal. It was rude. It was public. And, I think, it was wrong!

I’m not a b*tch, at least I don’t think I am, but I know what he was. I don’t have to say what he was, I don’t have to lower myself to his depravity, but you know it without me saying it. (I wish Reggie could have bit his leg. Not that Reggie’s ever bitten anyone before, but this would be a good start. ;-)

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