This story is 100% unretouched and unembellished.
I pulled into the blue spot at the Dollar General, and noticed that the SUV in the blue spot next to mine had no plate or placard. Fortunately, the driver was by his car.
Me, rolling down my window: “Hey, do you have a handicapped tag?”
Large black man with three thick gold necklaces: “No.”
Me: “Then why are you parked in the handicapped spot?”
Him: (turning around) “I’m leaving soon.”
Me: “But why are you parked in the handicapped spot?”
Him: “Because when I got here, this was all full.”
Me: (pointing to the row of empty parking behind us): “You could have parked in any of those. Why are you parked in the handicapped spot?”
He walks over to his car.
Me: “You don’t think you owe me an explanation? Why are you parked in the handicapped spot?
Him: “I don’t owe you shit.”
Me: “No. You don’t. But you could answer my question. Why are you parked in the handicapped spot?
Him: “Fuck you, bitch.”
Me: “Come on. Try. You could try. Trying isn’t too hard. Why are you parked in the handicapped spot?
Him: (walking over to my window): “Lemme ask you a question. Are you prejudiced?”
Me: (floored): “No!”
Him: “Because the only time anyone comes at me like that, it’s because they don’t like niggers.”
Me: “Whoa! What??? Now you wanna make this about RACE?”
Him: “That’s the only time anyone comes at me like that.”
Me: “I come at EVERYONE like that when they park in a handicapped spot without a placard!”
Him: “That’s the only time anyone comes at me like that.”
Me: “I come at EVERYONE like that when they park in a handicapped spot without a placard!”
Him: “That’s the only time anyone comes at me like that.”
Me: “I come at EVERYONE like that when they park in a handicapped spot without a placard!”
He walks toward the store, saying, “This bitch, man…”.
Me, yelling after him: “Man, that’s some bullshit! That’s some serious, serious BULLSHIT! Now you wanna make this all about YOU???”
As he walks thru the automatic doors, I continue to scream, “That’s some bullshit, man! That is some serious BULL. SHIT!
He walks back out.
Me: “This is NOT about YOU! It’s not. It’s about parking! Why are you parked in the handicapped spot?”
Him: “Fine. I’ll move!”
Me: “Thank you!”
I go inside and start my shopping. Two aisles in, the guy is making a bee-line for me. Fuck.
Him: “Real talk. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come at you like that.”
Me: “Did you move your car?”
Him: “Yeah.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Him: “Real talk, tho. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come at you like that.”
Me: “It’s all good.”
Him: “No. It’s not.” (He’s tearing up, and wiping them away with his shirt.)
Me: “Yeah. It is.”
Him: “No. It’s not. Real talk. That wasn’t godly. I’m sorry.”
Me: “Yeah…I love you, too.”
He starts bawling.
Me: “Bring it in, man.” (We embrace.) “We’re living in hard times right now.” (He nods on my shoulder, and now I’m crying too.) “We’re living in bad times right now.” (He nods on my shoulder.) “We’re living in hateful times right now.” (He nods on my shoulder.) “We can choose to love one another instead.”
We break our embrace.
Him: “I’m Anthony.” (He extends his hand, and I take it.)
Me: “I’m Cheryl. I’m having a shitty day. You just made it better.”
Him: (nods)
Me: “Much love, man. Much love.”
