I stopped at the Arco on the corner to get gas. This is a lame Arco, one in which you actually have to go inside to give them your ATM card, & GUESS how much money you are going to spend on gas.
When I went inside, there was a man in line in front of me. His clothes were dirty, & he had another man with him, & the other man's eyes were extremely bloodshot. The man in front of me started to raise his voice. He wanted them to let him pay with his ATM card, & get cash back. They don't offer that kind of service. The owner told him to use the ATM machine in the store. He said, "Hell, no, my bank will charge me! Let me do it this way!" The owner apologizes & says he can't do that. The man says, "I come in here every day! You know me! Why the fuck won't you let me do this?" He continues ranting & cussing....the owner asks him to tone it down, as there are other customers in the store. The guy says, "*I* am a fucking customer, you fucking asshole! You see me every day! Forget it, forget the damn beer." The owner tells him to leave it there, he'll put it back. The guy takes it & slams it on the floor. His drunken friend...who is literally swaggering around---tries to pick up the beer that fell out of the 12 pack carton (like these guys NEED 12 more beers!). The jerk tells him to leave it there, & keeps yelling & cussing. I walk outside to fill up my truck. It took about 5 minutes or so to fill up my truck (slowest damn gas *I've* ever seen!), & I still hadn't seen the guy come back out yet. This worried me, because he had said he wasn't going to get the beer...so why was he still in there (I guess cause he's an alcoholic, so no matter what he said, he couldn't leave without that beer)? So I take my cellphone & walk back inside. The jerk was arguing with a new clerk, with the owner still behind the counter. The jerk says, "You fucking White asshole! What are you, Jewish?" The jerk was Mexican. What does being Jewish have to do with the machine not working that way? And why get racial, anyway? Then the jerk starts walking around the counter, like he's going to get into it, physically, with these workers. Some other Mexicans who work there kept trying to calm him down.
I went outside to call the cops. I called 411 for the number. By the time I got through to a person, I saw the jerk walking away with his beer. I watched him to make sure he wasn't getting in a car. If he had gotten in a car, I would have reported his license plate & probably would have followed him. But I figured the cops could get him for public drunkenness, if he was going to hang out there. I explained to the operator what was happening, & she asked if everything was okay now. I told her it appeared to be.
I am mad at myself. I wish I had had some balls, & had told the jerk, "Hey! You have 2 choices here. Shut up, pay for the beer, & leave quietly, or just leave.....or I'm calling the cops in 5 seconds." He probably would have kicked my ass, but someone needed to do something....& I am mad that I didn't. But sometimes, when I get that angry at someone, I forget that I am 4'11. But hey, short people....you don't want to mess with us when we get pissed. I was SOOO mad. He is a PRIME example of why I HATE alcohol. I HATE it, so much. Yes....I know that SOME people CAN handle their liquor. But so many can't. And it's truly disgusting. I dispise this kind of behavior. People like this should be truly ashamed of themselves as human beings. They should all die, because they do NOT deserve the oxygen they are using. I truly feel sorry for anyone related to this man....anyone in his life at all. What a pathetic excuse for a human being.
This reminded me of another time when I didn't speak up against injustice. When I went to the Alabama School of Fine Arts, we accompanied some guys from Mountain Brook High School to a party that we were invited to by a guy who went to Vestavia High School. I went to Mtn. Brook from 1-9th grades, so I still knew a lot of the students there. Mtn. Brook has a horrible reputation for being a bunch of rich snobs (most are, actually). Only Brookies like Brookies. But we were INVITED to this party...and my girlfriends & I went to ASFA, anyway. So we get there, & the party is swinging (the guy throwing it...his parents were out of town). Everything is fine & cool....for a while. Someone must have asked my friend, Marc, where he went to school, & suddenly everyone thought our whole group went to Mtn. Brook. A bunch of Vestavia tough guys (football players?) told us to get the hell out of the house, off the property...and started shoving the boys we were with (at least they had the class not to hit girls). It was really humiliating, cause I remember the party basically stopping, & everyone watching us get thrown out...and I didn't even go to Mtn. Brook. But hell, not EVERYONE who went there was an asshole. I wouldn't have been friends with assholes. These pricks didn't even give us a chance.
When we neared the cars, one jerk hit my friend Marc. Just punched him, for no reason. Marc was walking silently to his car (we came in different cars). He wasn't saying or doing a damn thing (NOT the confrontational type). I couldn't believe it. In addition to the humiliation I was feeling, I immediately felt ANGER. I was FURIOUS. And even MORE angry at myself, for not turning around & KICKING THAT GUY'S ASS!!!! I wanted to! WHY didn't I? Why didn't I DO something or SAY something??? ARGHHHHH! I was sooo mad! We got into my friend's car to drive away, & as we pulled away from the curb, the same prick who hit Marc for no reason KICKED my friend's car!!!!! We drove to a nearby grocery store (everyone else had left before us & I guess went home), & got out to survey the damage. There was a DENT in her car, on the passenger door! A rather large, foot sized one! I couldn't believe it! NOW I was REALLY angry. I started bawling, not sad tears, but FURIOUS tears, & tears of frustration.
However, God or the fates or karma was watching out for us that night. We called the cops, & were standing in the parking lot talking to one car of them (another car of them went to the party to break it up), when the PRICK who hit Marc & kicked my friend's car PULLED UP to the grocery store to get cigarettes! I immediately pointed him out to the cops, explaining that THAT was the guy who did all this! They went over to talk to the guy....and my friend eventually pressed charges, & I think Marc was a witness (I don't remember if he pressed charges). I was not able to be a witness in court because I was in La Jolla at an early college program. But ha-ha, THIS particular prick paid for his crimes. And sadly? Probably didn't learn his lesson.
I just HATE feeling helpless. I HATE that feeling. I swear...if it gets me killed, next time, I am saying something! I'd rather die a hero than walk away pissed at myself for not trying to help.