There was nearly a throwdown last night. And amazing food had nothing to do with it. There were no brownies or BBQ wings. Iron Chef Bobby Flay made no appearance.
Who did make an appearance?
A carload of obnoxious, obsenity-yelling, middle-finger-giving teenagers. In the mall parking lot. Because I guess I took the parking space that they assumed was theirs. Even though I left them a space that was actually two spaces closer to the building entrance. But no, they didn’t take that space. Maybe it had cooties. They wanted the space I had taken. And so there was much tire squealing and bird-flipping and cuss word yelling out of their car window, by one idiot guy in particular. I mean, really, it was a spectacle. People all across the parking lot were staring.
And the family loading themselves into the minivan next to us? They were equally as puzzled as I. I got out of my car and walked to the other side of their van (into the aforementioned empty and close-to-the-entrance parking spot) and said, “Um, did they not see this spot?” And the dad of the minivan said, “Yeah, that was obnoxious.” And then the little girl buckling herself into her seat in the minivan said something and the mom said to her, “Yes, sweetie, he did say lots of bad words. His mommy should spank him.”
And then my sister, Sam, who already had a tough day and was just looking for someone to hit (especially if he resembled her ex), and my brother, Paul, who was out for his birthday dinner and all hopped up on caffeine from 5 Hour Energy… well, they were all ready to rumble. They were ready to go fisticuffs with the carload of punk kids. Me? I was 7 months pregnant and not so ready to endanger the life of my fetus over a parking space and being called a name that I didn’t even hear through my closed car window. But could I talk my siblings down?
Um, nope.
We walk through the doors of the mall and I start walking to the revolving door into Red Robin. And I go around and into Red Robin. And then my sister, who notices that the punk teenagers are walking into the mall behind us, flashes the punk teenagers a nasty look and then goes through the door and into Red Robin. And then my brother, who is looking to defend the honor of his pregnant sister, stands inside the revolving door, blocking the punk teengers from gaining entrance to the eating establishment, and proceeds to give them a tongue-lashing. Something along the lines of “Hey idiot, did you not notice the empty space right next to us?” Except he possibly threw in some cuss words for intimidation. I’m not sure. I couldn’t tell what he was saying… because me (and my fetus) and my sister were safely on the other side of the closed revolving door, watching to see if our brother was going to get hit in the face for his birthday dinner. And my brother? Not huge in stature. But scrappy. And — as I mentioned before — had some courage and energy to burn from the 5 Hour Energy drink.
But the punk kids? Totally backed down. I think maybe because my brother can also look a little psycho when the occasion calls for it. And the girls who were with the male punk teenagers? I’m pretty sure they wanted to date my brother… because I saw them giggling as the cussing, bird-giving guy squirmed. But then they all skulked away. Maybe because my brother was still blocking the door. And then he came in and the three of us got a table and ordered drinks and sang that Peter Cetera song from the Karate Kid. You know, the one about I am the man who will fight for your honor? And then we had dinner and saw Batman again (because there’s not much else out right now). And much later as we walked to the car, I half expected to see it graffitied and defaced by the same group of kids, who are no doubt the passive-aggressive type to do such a thing. But the car was fine, and no one got hit that night, and my fetus is none-the-wiser.
But if you look like my sister’s ex? You should probably still steer clear of here for a little while. Because I think she was a little upset that my brother got the bulk of the action and she didn’t get to smack anyone.
6 Comments »
RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL
Holy crud. That is the most exciting thing I’ve heard of happening in a while. I’m glad nobody punched anybody else. That would have been just too much excitement.
Comment by Jenna — September 26, 2008 @ 3:48 pm
Some people are such creeps. I’m glad your brother has your back.
Comment by Lisa Milton — September 26, 2008 @ 7:11 pm
Ahh, the memories. I really did want them to start something….after you were safely inside the restaurant of course.
Comment by Sam — September 26, 2008 @ 7:33 pm
Paul, what a hero!!!!
Comment by Joan — September 27, 2008 @ 8:07 am
SAA WEET! I love that, I wish I could have witnessed this throw down. And, um I think I saw the first Karate Kid movie more than anyone. That and Top Gun. I liked Batman - didn’t like Indian Jones and pathetically liked X-Files even if Fox Mulder is a porn King in real life. Your blog rocks.
Comment by shahara — September 27, 2008 @ 11:32 am
That was awesome! I would have hidden, because I’m cowardly like that.
Comment by Leslie — September 29, 2008 @ 11:18 am