So I’ve blogged before about how much I love my commute, but today things went horrendously awry. We’re not talking about “oh no, I stepped in a puddle” awry…we’re talking about “you can’t make shit this up, belongs in a movie” awry.
So I stayed on campus until nearly seven finishing up some work and then headed to the grocery store in search of some dishwashing goo and some syrup. On the way to the grocery I came up to a cross walk as the light was turning green and the “don’t walk” flashing-hand was doing it’s non-flashy thing which–last time I checked–means keep your ass on the sidewalk.
That’s when it happened.
Everyone imagines what they’d do in one of those movie-style hero situations, well I had my chance. Some gal was chit-chatting on her cellphone paying no attention as she sauntered through the crosswalk giggling into her phone and talking about what I can only assume was some MTV reality show. I look off to the left and see some dude in his car with the dome light on fumbling for something in the passenger seat and not paying any attention to the chick on the phone.
So I grab her and pull her up onto the sidewalk. The dude in the car looks up at the last second and sorta swerves around and then barrels off peddle-to-the-metal style. Meanwhile, the chick slugs me in the chest and yells at me to get off of her. Apparently she’d misinterpreted my potentially life-saving assistance as a would-be kidnapping, mugging and/or assault.
The worst-part is that no one was there. Campus is pretty dead this time of year, especially around seven in the ole PM. So it’s me and this chick who thinks I’m going for some boob-groppage or something and no one to bask in the awesomeness of my quasi-heroism. You know, in the movies, there’s always like a thousand people and some newspaper photographers hanging around.
Anyway, I tried to explain that a car was coming at her, but she wasn’t having it. So instead of a ‘thank you’ I received a much less polite ‘fuck off, asshole.’ Now I’m not going to lie, but I was a little disgruntled with this reaction. In the movies when you save someone from getting mowed down a car, they tend to be quite gracious. Instead I get some chick who’s all-kinds of loony-toons and assumes she’s been accosted. Now, no offense to this bitchy nerdy chick, but let’s be honest if I’m going to go out of my way to assault someone in public, it’s going to be someone who looks a lot more like Jennifer Aniston and a lot less like some chick trying out for “Rock of Love.”
On a related-note, it’s also probably going to be someone who understands what the don’t walk sign means…and understands the “look both ways” concept.
If only it had ended there. But alas, it did not.
As I’m wandering down the street to the grocery store, I’m sort of staring off into space. You know, mentally processing all of the craziness that just transpired when suddenly I hear some chick screaming… “what’s your problem you fucking pervert?!”
Needless to say this sorta jumps me back into reality and I look up to see some chick in her bra screaming out her window. Apparently she saw me staring off into space and assumed I was peeping in her window as she changed. She then closed the blinds–something one would think she should have done earlier, like perhaps pre-nudity–and I took a second to see just how many people had witnessed me being called out as a pervert on a public street.
Six. Six people were there to witness this transgression.
Not a damned soul to see me pull some chick out of harm’s way, but I’ve got a solid half-dozen people gawking at me and assuming I’m some sort of level-three sex offender. Super, abso-f’n-lutely super!!
Finally I made my way to the grocery store, just wanting to get my stuff and go home to bring an end to the ridiculousness of this entire journey.
If only that were actually the end.