Bully Frog, Or How To Piss Off A Rich Person
Today some rich people yelled at me.
And I say, "Bring it on!" More power to you, rich, snobby people with the airs and the perfectly manicured lawns, and with more time on your hands than you know what to do with. You go right ahead and yell at me, and point your gnarly little rich fingers at me, and scuff rich dirt in my face. We all know you do these things because in your heart of hearts, you know I'm better than you, always were, always will be.
It all started when I dropped Dee off for his soccer game on Wednesday. The field where he plays most of his games is located in a "hot" neighbourhood. It's an old neighbourhood, one that has been rejuvenated, with young rich blood coming in, tearing down the old homes and building gargantuan mansions and castles and things. It's always been a nice area, but now, it's THE area to live in, if you know what I mean. In case you don't know what I mean, what I mean is that, you want to live here because it means you are "someone". It also means you pay lots and lots of money for a tiny house on a tiny lot that isn't all that special, except for its location in this nice neighbourhood.
Of course, I don't live in this neighbourhood, but I do live close by, so what does that make me, I wonder? An "almost wannabe who doesn't wannabe"? Yeah, that's it.
Anydough, I digress hugely.
So, I dropped Dee off at soccer, in the midst of an oncoming thunder storm (don't worry, it only thundered, no lightning, and the game went on and no one was struck down), and I decided to stay in the car because it was raining and ... well ... I don't like getting wet, even if it is to watch my little boy play soccer.
I had parked on the side of the road closest to the park, fully realizing there was no parking on this side of the road. I did so because (a) I am a lazy bitch, (b) I am a rebel without a cause, (c) I had a lot of junk to haul around once I actually exited the vehicle, and (d) I have a handicapped permit, which entitles me to be allowed to park in no parking zones. One of the few perks to having a shitload of physical problems.
So, I parked there, two of my tires up a bit on the curb, to give cars coming through a larger space through which to drive. I thought it was rather thoughtful and safe of me, and I was rather proud of myself, because usually I don't think about anyone but myself, and that's at Christmas time.
Anyrichbitch, after a few minutes of watching Dee through the car window, I decided I needed to be up closer, so I inched the car up a couple of yards, and stopped right smack dab in front of a No Parking sign, which I thought was kind of ironic, in an Alanis Morissette kind of way.
So, I continued watching Dee make his amazing moves in the light rain, and watched as his knees and clothing got dirtier and wetter, and then the rain kind of stopped, so I thought I'd go out and sit on the sidelines and pretend to enjoy the game.
And, as I left the car and took out the camp chair and slowly slung it over my left shoulder, two women came stomping over to me from across the way. One stopped some distance back, the other kept on coming, her fat little hippo legs wobbling cellulite underneath the hems of her rich person shorts.
Frogfacehippowoman then smiled at me and said, "Hello there, do you see that there is a no parking sign? You can't park on this side of the street. And, you see, it's a safety issue, and well, you know, last week during soccer, there were probably 12 cars parked on this side of the street, and the bylaw officer was giving out tickets like crazy. Because, if you haven't noticed, we are having some safety issues on this stretch of street, what with no stop signs, and people speeding, and stuff. And so, you're here parked in a no parking zone, and you're parked on the grass a bit, which isn't safe, because as you can see, we have children here playing."
No freaking kidding?! Kids playing soccer? Here?! I.Had.No.Idea.
After I whizzed my head around 20 times in disbelief all Exorcist-like and said, "What the Hellokitty?!" another 30 times in my head, I nodded as I listened to Frogfacehippowoman, and when she was done blathering on and on about WhatIdon'tknow, I said to her, "Well, I actually parked up on the curb like that so that it would be safer because now there's more room for the cars to pass by, you see, so it's actually safer this way. And, yes, I do see the no parking sign, but I'm actually allowed to park here because I have a handicapped permit, and
OK, so after I said all that, I smiled all friendly-like at her, not in a taunting way, but more in a 'See, I'm not a bad person' kind of way, Frogfacehippowoman's mouth gaped open, her bottom lip all floppy-like (it was actually quite nauseating to watch), and she stood like that, her mouth open, bottom lip flailing in the summer wind, staring at me with disbelief.
I actually didn't know what to make of it at first, thinking that maybe she didn't hear me, or didn't understand what I had said, but then I got this feeling that she was not pleased with me, and was actually bullying me in her rich, yet very miniscule, way.
Then she smirked, and said, "Handicapped? What are you doing here at a soccer game if you're handicapped?"
And I said, "Ummm, if you haven't noticed, I'm not the one playing soccer." What an idiot.
So, when she finally had sucked her lip back, and closed her mouth, Frogfacehippowoman said, "So, irregardless of a permit or not, you can't park here, because it's not safe. And you're also on the curb, and on the grass, and you see, you can't do that. And I could call the bylaw officers and they'd be out here in 15 minutes." Before I go on, I cannot stand anyone who says "irregardless". It's one of my pet peeves, and it's tripled when a rich person says it, all haughty like that.
And then I smirked just a little bit, and I said, "Well, I suggest you do call the bylaw officer because I'd be happy to have him talk to you and explain that I am allowed to park here. So, you go right ahead and do that."
After another moment or two, with some quick blinking of her eyelids, Frogfacehippowoman turned on her heel, and met back up with her flunky, who had remained back quite a ways, and yelled out over her shoulder as she walked away, "Well, we should all have handicapped permits then!"
And I stood there in utter disbelief, that someone could have so little to do in their life that they would have the desire, or the utter gall, to come out of their house, walk over to me, and blather on and on about something they knew nothing about. Not only that, but to actually add that little nastiness to her already extremely nasty behaviour just blew my mind.
Anyfreakoid, I set up my camp chair all smuglike, and was watching the kids play, but all the while I kept watching behind me, to see if the po po was actually coming. And I was actually looking forward to it, because sometimes the po po can be quite handsome in their uniforms and all that, and wouldn't that be something if I had the bylaw officer go and talk to Frogfacehippowoman and explain to her, in monosyllables, what the law was?
About halfway through the kids' game, a man started yelling at someone, and I caught the following: "Don't you have something better to do than harass a young woman who's handicapped and just trying to watch her kid's soccer game?"
OK, he said "young woman", so stop laughing. I may not be young, but I'm not old. Much.
I didn't see what the commotion was about, but this same man then came over to me and said, "Can you believe that? What is wrong with these people?"
Apparently, Frogfacehippowoman's neighbour (let's call him AssholeToTheNthDegree) was out taking pictures of my car and its situation on the curb. And when the nice man yelled at him, AssholeToTheNthDegree explained it was "all about the safety."
So, this very nice soccer dad told me he had overheard my "conversation" with Frogfacehippowoman, and he couldn't believe these people and how they seemingly had no lives. "They have no lives, and they have to be perfect, with their perfect laws, and their perfect lawns, and they think the laws are made for them."
And I said, "Umm, you don't live around here, do you?" And he actually does, guys! But on the other side of the tracks, where it's still really nice, but not quite, if you know what I mean.
And then I told him I didn't understand them either, and I had no patience for people like that, who not only had no life, but made everyone else's life their own concern. Because once you've had a child with cancer, or any other major trauma in your life, you realize what's truly important.
And a car parked on the curb, entirely legally, is no biggie. Even on a tiny scale.
I can't wait for the next soccer game. Because guess who's coming out to watch?!