Home / I hope all men aren’t like this.

I hope all men aren’t like this.

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Dear Driver of White Volvo Stationwagon Parked in Front of the Church Nightclub in Denver on Saturday Night:

I never formally introduced myself. I was so concerned with my personal safety that I wasn’t able to tell you how much I wanted to punch you in the throat. I never got the chance to tell you what an embarrassment to humanity you are.

I appreciate your concerns in life. After all, I was walking on the sidewalk that your car was hovering over. Your car’s presence did force me to reroute my steps. That may have entitled you to a simple, ‘I’m sorry for blocking the entire sidewalk. I don’t know what I was thinking.’ That would have sufficed.

I am pretty sure that, ‘What are you looking at, bitch?’ was not the appropriate response to my crossing in front of your car. I know, I know, you had a young girl in your car and you wanted to impress her. I was surprised to see your companion laughing at my expense.

I can’t promise that were I in a similar situation, I would laugh at my male companion harrassing a strange female and calling her a bitch. I am pretty sure I wouldn’t laugh at all. You must possess some amazing charm.

That charm was further demonstrated when you continued to shout at me. ‘Just keep on walking, slut!’ was especially poignant. I admire your ability to pass judgement on a girl wearing an ankle-length skirt. Clever.

I think I realized the breadth of your charm when two men tried to calm you down. ‘Get in the car,’ they requested. ‘She started it!’ you protested. Mmm. I started it. I did, after all, walk in front of your car. If that’s not grounds for verbal assault, then hell, I don’t know what is.

It was good that you drove away when you did. Obviously at the height of your inebriation, it’s always a good idea to operate a vehicle when you can do the most damage. Lucky for you, you drive the world’s safest car–you should be all set. Good thinking, ace.

I guess I am most disappointed in my complicity. I was too sober to think quickly. Had I consumed a drink or five, I would have had the good sense to spit on your car, tell you how ashamed for you I was, and heck–I would have even taken a black-eye for the team just to see the number of men that would have jumped into the fight to kick your ass.

What am I saying–I could have kicked your ass. Regrets, I’ve had a few. Perhaps we’ll meet again.


The Tall Blond Girl Who Walked in Front of Your Car

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About Rebecca

  • Beware, as the Roches once sang, jerks on the loose. He’ll get his, don’t worry.

  • Eric Olsen

    Excellent Rebecca, thanks, venting is the best revenge, or at least a good substitute. Here in one day we have your report of extreme male asshole-atry and we have Lyz’s thoughts on straight men exercising their feminine sides with impunity in Manhattan.

    I’m trying to place myself in this situation – I find I have become MORE rather than less impatinet with assholes as I’ve grown older so I probably would have done something fairly drastic; but as Rodney said, he will certainly get his in the long run. On that you can rely.

  • But I’m an American! I need my vengeance now! I can’t wait for karma.

  • Eric Olsen

    Then track him down and crush the worthless prick – in front of the girl..

  • Beauty.

    you know, I just find that any effort exerted on my part because of assholes is just too much work.

    The fact that you had to reroute your steps was already too much work.

    Piece of smelly crap. Turn up your nose and get past his stench.

    Except for the inspiration he gave you to write your perfectly poison letter, He is nothing.

    YOU, however, are a lovely literate woman who can turn even his vomitty humanity into something amusing.