Toothless D-Bags Really Get My Goat

Ugh.  Thank goodness for wine.

So, whenever I watch my niece E during the week, I always drop her off at the train station so that my sister-in-law can jump off the train from downtown and then hop back on the next train going back into the Loop.  It’s not a perfect situation, but it works pretty well for us (so far).

The parking situation at the Metra station is not good.  Sometimes a spot is available in the parking lot, but usually people are double parked or blocking fire hydrants or the middle of the street or whatever.  And now that the weather is getting colder, the number of cars milling around for pick-ups has increased exponentially.

Thursdays are always the worst (after Friday).  One of the local restaurants takes over one of the parking lots for their valet service, so usually you can’t even get into the lot to wait.  Today I arrived before they had put up the cones.  Yay, me!

I pulled into the parking lot and there were no regular spots.  The only open spots were the handicapped spots and a spot that wasn’t really a spot next to the slot reserved for Metra employees.  Rather than take up a handicapped spot, I pulled into the non-spot.  There was a car parked in the Metra employee spot.  The guy was toothless and gross (which I feel I can say because of the douchebaggery he displayed later).

I parked the car, left the motor running, and turned on my hazards.  I got out of the car so I could jiggle E’s car seat since she was getting sad.  The guy takes a few steps toward me and says, “You know you’re not supposed to park here.”

I replied, “I know.  I’m just handing this baby over to her mother, who is going to be on the next train that is arriving in approximately two minutes.”

He said, “There’s a $150 fine for parking there.”

“OK,” I said, “I’m not staying here.  I’m leaving in two minutes.”

“I could call the cops right now to come and give you a ticket.”

Now, here’s where I probably should’ve said something like, “Well, if that makes you happy…”  I mean, I would’ve been long gone before the cops got there.  But I caved, got back in my car, seething, and parked about a half block away in the far lot.  I dragged poor little E out of the car and carried her all the way back over to the platform.  In the cold and drizzle.  A tiny little baby!  Plus all her crap.  I even left an inadvertent message on my SIL’s cell phone, which I hope she deleted before listening to it 🙂

I suppose the morals of this story are these:

1. A vast many Metra employees are dicks (at least the ones who make their presence felt). I’m sure there are many lovely Metra employees, in fact, I know there are.  But there are a lot of tools.  I’ve met them.  I should’ve gotten their names and reported them, but…

2. One never thinks of the correct thing to say or do when in the moment. Afterwards, I always realize how I should’ve handled the situation, and wish that I had the cojones to stand my ground against these jackholes.  But I’m always just too taken aback by people’s lack of empathy when they choose instead to swing their middling wangs of power around in the face of the elderly or people with children or the children themselves.

3. I’m happy because I’m home safe and sound. I didn’t get shot or bashed in the head with a tire iron.  I drove away.  I released a few choice vocabulary words into the ether and literally put the jackass behind me.  Who knows how he would’ve reacted if I’d have stood up to him?

And now, it’s Thursday night.  Time to drink wine, eat pizza, and watch Parks and Recreation.


1 Comment »

  1. Hammervision Said:

    F that douchebag. And may he get kicked in the teeth and lose another.

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