I had a funny post lined up for today. Something slightly raunchy, that would amuse and hopefully titillate.
Then I had a car accident this morning.
My funny post has gone out the window.
To say that my weekend has not gone well would be like saying the Titanic was a minor boating mishap. Yesterday I had a very horrible day, for reasons that I will spare you from (but to summarize they stem from horrible fights with both Partner Unit and Dear Mate), but suffice to say that I spent most of the day in a state of suspended medication. I slept all afternoon, then went to bed at 8:30 at night. Really, that was for the best. I woke up this morning with a sleeping tablet hangover, but at least I got some fucking sleep.
Driving into work this morning, I realized my veins were throbbing with icy fury and my heart had frozen solid. I had reached a new level of coldness. It may surprise you to know that people in my real life around me often accuse me of being cold, calculating, and uncaring. This, actually, is about as far from the truth as it gets. I take everything to heart and keep it there.
But believe it or not, I just never really tell people how I feel. Hard to believe, based on this blog, I know.
Anyway, I waited forever in a queue to get onto the highway to get to work. Monday morning traffic was bad, made worse by bad weather. A guy in a Volvo tried to get around me and cut into the queue, but I was having none of that. I had waited forever, he could wait his fucking turn, too. I wouldn't let him in. Volvo-man then tried to go around me in the breakdown lane. I wouldn't have that, either. Not ok with me. I went and blocked the way for him.
Then he got behind me, cut across the median, and zoomed onto the highway. He went across two lanes of traffic, then swung over and went into the lane in front of me, as I was merging onto the highway.
Then he slammed on his brakes and stopped his car. On the highway. Two feet in front of me.
I had been on the phone-I slammed on my brakes. I screamed. I hit him. My cell phone and hands-free kit went sliding onto the floorboard as there was a thud of my car hitting his.
Then I became a beast. I got out of the car and started screaming. In English. I was livid, and this guy made things worse. A police car came up behind me, and we moved onto the breakdown lane. I tried to explain to the cop what happened, in screaming English. I was shaking and loud. Very loud.
Volvo-man got out of his car and explained, in Swedish, that I was crazy and lying. I had hit him deliberately. I drove like a maniac and tried to cut him off. I was vicious.
And the cop believed him.
I explained what happened. The cop told me "People in Sweden don't drive like that. We help each other here. That man would never drive like that."
There was a loud thud as my jaw hit the pavement.
"Are you calling me a liar?" I asked the cop.
"You clearly don't understand what you are talking about." replied the cop. Volvo-man looked smug by the side of the road. I realized I was in real danger of hitting both the cop and Volvo-man and spending some time in jail.
The cop produced some insurance papers, since my car needs a new fender, but Volvo-man had no damage. I told him I didn't want to file papers, I just wanted Volvo-man to get the fuck out of my life, so the cop told me I was free to go. As I got into my car, Volvo-man looked at me and sneered.
"Are you single?" he asked.
"Why? You looking for a date, you fucking freaky loser?" I asked.
"No, you just act like it. It's part of your problem." he sniggered.
I slammed into my car and drove to work, Volvo-man following me the entire way.
And, I have to confess, I cried the whole way.
I am reaching my capacity for bullshit.
I will be taking the chainsaw out of the garage later and installing it in my car. And I am going Texas Chainsaw Massacre at the next person that goes after my driving. This little white chick has had enough of the freaky bullshit driving here.
-H.
PS-Jennifer interviewed me, and you can find it here. Thanks for the good questions, kids. Stay tuned, this site will be cheerful tomorrow (barring any more run-ins with Volvo-man).
Posted by Everydaystranger at November 3, 2003 10:15 AM | TrackBackThanks you guys, you make me laugh. And thanks for the wishes of being ok, Joey and Dawn. And Johnny Huh, Kaetchen, Kat, Drew, Pylorns, and all the others, thanks for the laugh.
Johnny Huh-I was thinking of that just this morning. That Volvo-Man and the cop will both get what they deserve, even if I won't be there to see it.
Oda Mae-you da' woman.
Posted by: Helen at November 4, 2003 09:13 AMSorry about your mishap. Some men drivers, as you know, are complete asses. My husband gave me a beautiful BMW M3 convertible for my 40th birthday (If I still don't have kids by the time I'm 43, he'll upgrade me to a Porsche. He DOES NOT want kids, and I'm not complaining, believe me!)
ANYWAY, back to my tale. I drive like a bat out of hell on the Autobahn, normally between 200-220- ks, although I go up to 240 if the road is completely clear. (I live close to the most beautiful, least travelled autobahn in Germany.) My husband normally drives about the same speeds. The German men get extremely agressive when they see me driving the car alone. They will burn the engines out of their little economy cars to keep me from passing. They will put on their blinkers and dart out in front of me as I'm barreling down the passing lane. Same for the truckers. My husband drives? Occasionally, someone will pull out in front, but you can tell by the way they swerve when they look in the rearview mirror that it was accidental. It's because you're an attractive woman, driving better than a man, and it drives them WILD!! Poor little babies.
Oh, and let me add my other driving story here - relates to your other below. I was living in Berlin at the time, and a friend and I were up very early - about 0530 - to drive to Poland. We were in the car. I'd scraped the windows, but they were still frosted over, so I was running the defroster and using the wipers.
All of a sudden there is a sharp metallic sound from the window. Scared me to death. I rolled down the window and there is this huge man standing there, his taxi parked a few feet away. He rattles off in German, which I still didn't understand very well, then switches to English when realizes I don't understand. "You may not idle your car for longer than two minutes. It is ILLEGAl in Germany. You will stop now!"
My friend, who IS fluent in German, half Jewish, and from Manhattan, starts yelling at him in German and poking herself in the forehead. He becomes completely stonefaced and walks away. Then she told me what she said.
"Oh, we're so SORRY, we forgot-we're in a country where it's legal to pull down your pants and piss in front of the world on the pavement, where you can legally execute little Jewish babies, but for God's sake, don't idle your car in this fucked up country! How long have you been idling your taxi watching my friend clean her windshield? Stupid Hun."
Needless to say, we won no new friends for the U.S. of A., but at least WE felt better. (I have to admit, my friend has more balls than most of the men I know!)
Keep up the good work, don't let them get you down.
Wow! You do have restraint! If I were in your place, I would have been screaming and gesticulating and jumping up and down and would have landed volvo guy some quick ones and called the cop a slimeball sexist. Heh!
Posted by: melodrama at November 4, 2003 06:51 AMSorry H! Remember, thirty years from now you will look back at this and laugh. Well... maybe not. But it will be less traumatic!
Posted by: Kindred Spirit at November 4, 2003 01:28 AMIsn't every other person in Sweden driving a Volvo?
And the guy is such an asshole, I bet he went home and cried his own eyes out because no one likes him and he smells like fish and has a small cock and a big ass and one loopy eye that can't sit still.
Don't worry about damaging your own karma on him, he'll get his. Did you get his license plate number?
And Jamie, smug ass pindick? Beautiful turn of phrase!
Posted by: Johnny Huh? at November 4, 2003 12:19 AM"Father: ...Now tell me my child-have you accepted Jean as your personal saviour?
Helen: Ooh, I have, Father."
Excellent, darling! Now my flock has doubled, I'm well on my way to being a real power in the overworld. ;) (Remind me to tell you some time about my other disciple... my bra drying on the shower curtain rod... )
So now I have free rein to smite at all who do irk thee, my child. And all that I ask in return is your devoted adoration. Or acknowledge my comments every once in a while... hmmmm, you already do. But the adoration would be nice.
Posted by: jean at November 4, 2003 12:06 AMOh my God...I just got into an accident over the weekend, too. We were hit. Luckily, the other drivers were not total jerks like your Volvo dude.
I am so sorry. Hang in there. I can't believe the comments he said. What a moron. I would have cried, too. :(
Thank goodness you aren't hurt or anything.
Posted by: Dawn at November 3, 2003 10:17 PMYou have so much more restraint than I do. Admirable.
Posted by: LeeAnn at November 3, 2003 09:39 PMgawd, that had me fuming. what a fuck-nut! grrr. i hope things are getting better reallll soon.
Posted by: kat at November 3, 2003 07:39 PMIm thinking you pay for a flight out there.. we can make volvo man disapear..
Posted by: pylorns at November 3, 2003 05:44 PM"Don-what other proof do you need that we belong together, to ride into the metaphorical sunset (I mean...come on! It's impossible to actually ride INTO a sunset)?"
No additional proof is needed, which is why you really must make it to Atlanta soon. Otherwise I will be left with no choice but to hop a plane to Sweden. That's no problem, of course, although I may have to solicit funds from my dear readers...they will, after all, receive much of the benefit.
"You dreamt about me, I masturbated about you. It's meant to be!"
Heh...I did that too.
"But, um, can you dream about me winning the lottery tonight? Please?"
Sure, but as we're both writers and understand the need for financial independence such that we can be freed creatively, if you win, you must share.
Okay, back to work for me.
Posted by: Don at November 3, 2003 05:43 PM"Don-what other proof do you need that we belong together, to ride into the metaphorical sunset (I mean...come on! It's impossible to actually ride INTO a sunset)? You dreamt about me, I masturbated about you. It's meant to be!"
Spits water out...Check please!!!
Do they do police reports over there? Or cause no damage to the other driver they let it go. If there is a report would u mind posting his # . Not that we would call him 30 times a day or anything or report him to Homeland Security for attempting to hurt a U.S. citizen :)
Posted by: Drew at November 3, 2003 05:36 PMJust really, really glad it was only a little fender-bender and you're OK. Maybe Volvo-prick will come down with a late-developing case of whiplash.
Sorry everything is rotten right now. I would write something cute about how it's all gonna get better, but that's probably the last thing you need. So I'll just say that I'm sorry stuff sucks.
Take care of yourself and grab a bottle of champagne on the way home. Or maybe some margarita mix.
Posted by: Joey at November 3, 2003 05:17 PMWhoo. Girl. You are capturing some bad shit lately. Seems like everything's building to a head. I've got no advice, just to keep your head down and come out swinging.
Oh, and to provide your address for shipping over more Captain Crunch.
Posted by: Kaetchen at November 3, 2003 05:09 PMThink about it this way, Helen, the week has nowhere to go but up. (Or did I just put a major-league whammy on the whole thing?)
There's a lesson in there somewhere...hmm...oh yeah...PEOPLE IN VOLVOS SUCK!! It comes from having an indestructable car. I used to say that whoever likes their car the least has the right-of-way. Of course, I learned to drive in Boston.
But good luck with the rest of the week.
And Don, it's getting annoying your assumption that you hold the keys to Helen's heart. Get in line, Bud. If I weren't 10,000 miles away, and happily married, I'd ... oh, never mind.
Posted by: Howard at November 3, 2003 03:47 PMDon-what other proof do you need that we belong together, to ride into the metaphorical sunset (I mean...come on! It's impossible to actually ride INTO a sunset)? You dreamt about me, I masturbated about you. It's meant to be!
But, um, can you dream about me winning the lottery tonight? Please?
Posted by: Helen at November 3, 2003 03:20 PMScene: a tiny confessional. The priest sits on one side, Helen sits on the other, wearing a tiny black veil (why? Because it looks cool).
Father: Tell me your sins my child.
Helen: Damn, Father, I have no idea where to begin.
Father: Well, guess we can add another one to that list.
Helen: This one time, at band camp...
(two hours later)...
Helen: And that's about it.
Father: That's fine, that's fine. That's enough, really. Now tell me my child-have you accepted Jean as your personal saviour?
Helen: Ooh, I have, Father.
Father: Cool. It's all good here.
Jean-I'm an idiot. I was so livid I forgot to get his number on his license plate. And I have a camera phone. I'm a dumb-ass sometimes.
Posted by: Helen at November 3, 2003 03:19 PMUm, Helen...I'm very sorry you had to start out your week that way, but really I'm more in shock because (blush) I had dream last night that I was on my way to see you and...this is not bullshit...I got in an accident! I'm going to go scratch my head for a few hours now.
Posted by: Don at November 3, 2003 02:48 PMHelen dear, I'm sorry. That royally sucks. Why do people go completely off their nut the minute they get behind the wheel?
If I could send you some flowers and graham crackers, I would.
Posted by: David at November 3, 2003 02:36 PMMotherfucking Volvo drivers.
You know, I am still a juvenile. Rage-induced murder would be wiped clean from my record. Keep that in mind next time some smug-ass pindick pulls something, and Jean is unavailable.
You were interviewed. And there were references to socks and Grover. You're the money.
Posted by: Jamie at November 3, 2003 12:31 PMawak. sheesh. That would be awake. Maybe I'm not after all. Maybe I should go back to bed now.
Posted by: jean at November 3, 2003 11:29 AM:) Just me again... yeah, almost 4:30am and I'm still awak.
I just got back from your interview: "Can one ever have enough socks? No. And they must have funny characters on them. Plain black socks are for plain people. I want cartoons, dammit! "
YEAH!!! Or at least pictures -- like my sox w/ kitties running around all over them. But I like the cartoons the best... (And my 72 year old mother says "You're 44 years old; why are you wearing pink and orange striped socks with a bunny, which say 'you're icky' on them? Hand 'em over. The the next day she's wearing them! hee hee)
Posted by: jean at November 3, 2003 11:28 AMoops... got carried away. So. Got my BP down, so I'll go see what'cha had to say in the interview!
Posted by: jean at November 3, 2003 11:11 AMOK. That's it. Volvo Man is on my list. Did you get his car's license number? If so, use that charming phone system to get his telephone number and I will *personally* make a trans-Atlantic international call to him, and cuss him up one side and down the other, in English, with a Southern accent. And I will liberally sprinkle the rant with the term "chain-saw" as it relates to his balls... or pending loss thereof!
What a fucking asshole! He did that on purpose; I just know he did! Jeezus H. Beelzebub in an Edsel, the dweeb needs carving up...
{{{Helen}}}
Now I'll try to calm down, before I do somethig absurd like go to cheaptickets.com and go a-hunti
Posted by: jean at November 3, 2003 11:09 AM