. . .so that you don't ruin the afternoon for the rest of us.
Came out of the post office this afternoon and climbed into my car. As I'm turning on the car, angry white man pounds on my roof with a thick marker.
AWM: "You wanna get out and take a look at what you did to my car?"
Me, thinking: WTF?!?
Me, speaking and rolling down window a couple inches: Oh, I'm sorry. Did my door hit your car? I don't think it did.
AWM, angrily: I felt it from inside my car!
(I look through my window at his gray Honda. I don't see any marks or dings, and he's not pointing to any. Throwing caution to the wind, I open my door. I open it more. I open it all the way. There's a good three inches between the edge of my car door and his car.)
Me: Look, it doesn't even touch your car, even when fully open.
Him: I felt it from inside my car!
(I close my door and roll up the window, then lock the door. Thinking: Whatever.)
Him, still screaming: I felt it from inside my car!
(I drive out of the PO lot and down the street, checking repeatedly in my rearview window to see if he's following me. I was headed to pick up Lucas from daycare and HELL NO I'm not going to have any crazy white man following me. To be safe, I pull into the lot of the police station a couple blocks away and wait for a few minutes. When there's no sign of AWM, I continue on my way.)
I stay paranoid all afternoon and evening. Angry White Men are my least favorite brand of crazy.