It seems that in life, there are days, weeks, and maybe even months where the positive energy of the universe is smiling down upon us, blessing us with all that is great and good in the world. Your energy is boundless, good things keep coming your way, and you just radiate good karma.
And then there are just those days where the cosmos channel and dispose every ounce of negativity and bad shit on you. This day would be the latter.
After a rough week, I one night after work decided to go for a walk to clear my head. I wanted the endorphins to flow through me, a natural high to help raise me from my rut.
One hour of brisk walking in, I was nearing the end of my route. The last leg was to walk to the top of the hill I live on. By the end, night had fallen, but my route was still well lit, thanks to street lamps. I also was wearing a bright green tie-dye shirt, just for extra visibility. As I approached the bottom of the hill, I crossed the road that runs perpendicular and leads out onto a main road in my town.
Music blared in my ear, my hair sat atop my head in a knotted, ratty bun, and beads of sweat from the humid night air sat on my face, but damn, I was feeling a hell of a lot better. As I nearly finished crossing the road, I noticed a car’s lights shine down to my right side. In my peripheral, I saw a car, doing what I thought at the time, was inching forward.
Since there was a stop sign, I fully expected the car to come to a stop. Although upon initial sight, I stepped a little to my left, just in case it inched up too much.
Well. It did inch up too much. It actually didn’t even inch up, it just kept going.
3 seconds after seeing the car coming down the road, I saw it again – under the top half of my body.
It was probably a split-second interaction, but it felt likes years. I felt a fast, strong force first hit into my arm and leg - and that was when all the stress, anger, and aggression I had pent up inside just came OUT.
As the car was still moving and more of my body became sprawled out onto the hood, it was almost like the savage beast within me took over. Instead of thinking, “Oh, I should probably move, I’m getting hit by a car”, I took it as, “This car is personally attacking me. IT. MUST. PAY.”
I didn’t try to flea as the car continued driving into my body (not fast, but still forceful, obviously) Flight was not my choice, fight was. With my hand clenched into a tight fist, I raised it up over my head, and proceeded to HULK THE HELL OUT, and slam it down on the hood of the car, all while screaming at the top of my lungs,
“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHH!!! FUCK!!!”
It took the car a second to brake. When the car completely stopped, adrenaline was pumping through my body, and I jumped off the hood, ready to wreck shit and screaming profanities loud enough to easily reach the high holy heavens.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!
ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!
THIS IS NOT MY WEEK!
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU FUCKING DOING YOU CRAZY ASSHOLE?!”
Screaming I was walking in rushed circles away from the car. Finally, I spun around to face the head that was behind the wheel.
Looking back at me behind a thick pair of gold, hexagon shaped glasses and a mouth agape, two hands clutching at the wheel she could barely see over, was a small, old woman.
I scoffed audibly…not like she could even hear me anyway. I then felt disappointed in myself, “Fuck, I hope this old lady didn’t hear me curse. Fuck, I just cursed again. Stop fucking cursing.”
For a couple of seconds we stared looking at each other. I then approached her car.
I could feel the grimace on my face. What else is there to do after being struck by a vehicle than confront the striker?
Since she was driving a four door god-damn Honda sudan, I bent my legs to make myself eye level with her and stared at her through the glass of the passenger side window. I leered at her, and she looked back, and then started to try to open the window. She was probably too shaken up to even know how to operate her window. Or she was too old.
After a few miserable failed attempts to open the window, I could wait no longer. I opened her door, which was unlocked.
She wanted to be robbed and assaulted by a pissed-off pedestrian.
I scanned the inside of the car quickly, and noticed a knit afghan in the backseat. I was highly tempted to take it and suffocate her with it, but I resisted. Fortunately for her.
The only thing my “attacker” (I use this term loosely, but angrily) kept saying over and over was, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Unimpressed, I asked if she was okay, commented that I was okay, mentioned that my parents will make me buy reflective tape, and said goodnight and started to ascend the hill, still sputtering expletives, and wildly waving my middle finger in the air…because I felt like it.
When I finally reached my house, my parents were sitting outside. I casually said I was struck by a car, and my dad shot up and started to inspect my limbs. I told him I was fine.
Exhausted and annoyed , I made my way to my room to shower and go to bed after a, needless to say, incredibly stressful episode. As I started to move around clothes and prepare for the next day, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Printed on my back, in all black, bolded capital letters, my t-shirt read, “NO BUENO’.
Fucking NO BUENO, indeed.