Journal Entry #10684!@$%?
WORDS: TIFFANY
A week ago, me, Faye and Van were one swing away from getting into a hair pulling,
face scratching fight with a lady downtown. She opened up a motorcycle repair shop in a
building that use to he abandoned. In the building's parking lot there's a long flat rail about a foot
off the ground, perfect for skating on. We drove to the rail asstanting that we could skate hassle
free, as we always had, but to our dismay the building had been freshly painted and a cluster of
potted plants sat at the foot of the rail. I parked the car on the street, so me and Van could
investigate closer. We walked around to the front of the building, and Van peeked in the door;
meanwhile, I looked around on the outside for a sign that would indicate what sort of business
was being established.
A skinny woman with a ring on every finger approached us abruptly. "What are you
doing here"." she asked us. as if we had just barged in on her taking a piss.
After an uneasy silence. Van said, "yeah um. we were interested in buying this bar." 1
think we both sensed that this lady was going to start breathing fire, so we ran laughing to the
car, in an attempt to avoid the situation. As I reached for the door handle, I saw the woman speed
walking around the comer huffing and puffing.
Then it came, "you know where I'm from," she screeched while waving her hands
frantically auound in the air, "people don't go fucking snooping around in other people's places. If
they do, they get shot and left to fucking bleed to death in an alley or a dumpster. You took it
upon yourselves to come looking in my god damn door, and I demand to know why."
I stepped away from the door handle to show that I was ready to confront her and
answered, "it's not like we waltzed into your living room. You're running a business here. People
are supposed to come snooping in your doorway."
"Well we're not open," she said matter of factly. " and if you look in the district handhook
this is a residential area."
I replied, "it doesn't matter what district it happens to he in, you're still running a
business."
"It's my place, and your friend stuck her nose in my doorway; I demand to know why."
Van jumped in and said, "you're being totally irrational."
"I'm not being irrational, I'm being a bitch. Where I'm from, you have to be a bitch, or
you don't survive."
Van replied just loud enough for her to hear, "you know, you remind me of my sister;'
This made the woman frantic. Her eyes hecame dark and intense as they probed Van's ego for a
weak spot.
"I'm not your fucking sister. You don't know me. Don't try to analyze me you little bitch.
rm a philosophy major. You should take a look within yourself; You're the one who needs a
fucking therapist."
"Look at you," I cut in,. "your losing your mind over nothing, and we're remaining ca~lm'
and rational."
She shook as she said. "I'm from New York~ We don't stab people's backs out there like
people do out here in California; I'm just watching my back."
Van stuck her arm out with her fingers an inch apart for the lady to see, "It's this big,"
she explained, "it's this big."
"What the hell did you say?" she demanded of Van. Then she turned to me and asked,
"what the hell did she say, what's she talking about?" We both ignored her, and looked at each
other from across the car with satisfied smiles.
"Look you little Chinese bitch," she erupted, "you should just sit your skinny ass back
down in the car." We both laughed at her attempt to provoke us, and Van walked casually around
the car to where I stood.
"Let's do something," she said under her breath.
"If you have something to say, say it to my face," the lady yelled from across the car.
I whispered back to Van, "A few big biker guys have walked out here to check up on the
situation, but whatever... "Well then let's just get out of here," she replied
"Are you talking shit?" the lady yelled. "What are you talking shit for? Come over here
where I can hear you, you stupid bitch." Neither of us made an effort to move. so she charged
toward us with her thin brown hair whipping at the air and her petite feet stomping heavily on the
pavement. Without hesitating. Van met her halfway, and I noticed Faye getting up from her post
where she had been silendy stationed since we anived.
Van waved one hand in front of the ladies face while pulling at the door handle with the
other. "You know what, I don't even want to talk to you." she said, while joining Faye back in
the car.
After that, it was just me against the self-proclaimed bitch. Seeing that we weren't going
to fight her, I was detennined to suck the tire out. of her lungs. and confront her about
disrespecting me and my friends.
"What do you care about?" I asked. She glared at me with a confused expression; I
continued, "What is it that you do in this warehouse?"
She answered sarcastically. "what? why. are we going to be friends now or something?"
"No," I said, "I'm just curious." She seemed pleased with this new direction in the
conversation.
"I repair motorcycles," she started. "I've worked my whole life for this. I'm the only
woman in, my field, and I'm known all over the world. Men respect my work because I'm a bitch.
otherwise they wouldn't trust me with their bikes."
Van reached her arm out of the car window and pulled on my sleeve. "Come on let's go."
she urged, "I don't want to hear about this bitches life." I mistakenly ignored Van's request
because I was determined to connect with this lady on some level.
"What if motorcycle repair was illegal, would you still do it?" I asked.
"No, I am an adult and I obey the laws," she said with a straight face even though it was a
lie bigger than her head.
"That's very noble," I said, "but unlike you. I don't obey all of the laws, because the thing
I care about is skateboarding. and it's illegal almost everywhere. This place where you've opened
your shop, was one of the last places that we could skate without being hassled. When we drove
up, we realized that it had been occupied, so we "snooped around" in order to fmd out if it was
cool with the new owner if we skated here."
This opened an old wound and her head came unhinged again. "I use to let people skate
here," she said, pointing an accusing eye at mc, "but then some ass hole broke my potted plants
and took off."
She dribbled on and on about these skaters, and I noticed that she was accidentallv
lumping us in with these fellows who broke her plants. "...and you guys think you can get away
with anything... I skate too, I roll on ledges. and pop ollies, but I don't break peoples shit like you
do...all of you oome here and don't even ask...mlooooshreeepoo."
I interrupted, "we didn't break your plants, and we aren't those guys, so stop venting your
anger out on us."
"Then how come you ran away laughing like little kids when I asked you what you were
doing here?"
"Because, you approached us with a threatening tone. and we didn't want to get into a
confrontation with you." She seemed pleased that I had felt threatened because all of the sudden
she became very humble.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't realize I was threatening you; I just wanted to know what
business you had being on my property."
"We came here to skate," I repeated. "We've been on a road trip for six weeks, and today
is the fast day, that we've been back here, since we left. We were looking for the owner to find
out if it was still all right to skate the rail."
"Well you're looking at her," she said, "why didn't you just talk to me? I was right out
front when you arrrived, so you had no reason to go snooping in my door."
She was really testing my patience with her ignorance, but I answered calndy, "how
were we supposed to know that you were the owner, if we had never met you before?"
"Oh, we've met before," she said, shaking her head with a look on her face that said: as if
you didn't know. "You were out here skateboarding in the parking lot. I asked you to leave
because I didn't want you to hit my car." I suppose that most people would have remembered
such an incident, but I'm jabbed at by people's intet'rogating oomments almost daily, making it
hard for me to c~aiect the face with the comment; however, her bitter tone and faster than a gun
shot reactions were unforgettable.
"Yeah, I remember you now," I said, "that was like two months ago. I thought you were
just Some lady who had parked in this lot. How was I supposed to know that you were starting a
business here?" "This lot belongs to this building, so it was obvious that I own the building, because I was parked in my lot."
"Well, it wasn't obvious to me because I see different people parking in this lot all of the time. In fact, I park in this lot which doesn't make me the owner."
"i'm the owner," she clarified, "and some asshole skateboarder broke my pots, so I can't let you skate here. I'd like to, I really would, but my shit got broken, and it's
only fair to ban everyone." Her fire was burning out, yet a wall of smoke remained lingering between us. Through the smoke, I saw a crack formng in her shell, but I couldn't think
of the right balance of words to express myself. The risk of throwing her into another rage was too great and would force us to start all over again.
Faye piped in at this point which gave me a chance to collect my thoughts, but they refused my requests for help. Cars continued to wezz by us, as if they were in denial,
adding to my feeling of helplessness.
The lady turned to walk away; the moment was slipping through my fingers. I tried to redeem my purpose and said, "hey, next time you see a group of skaters, don't assume that just because
they're skaters, they fucked up your shit," which only revealed a morsel of her prejudices, and made me feel like a little old lady waving her purse at a vicious dog.
The undefeated champion of our rail ignored my request and walked off towards her shop with an air of victory. I retreated back to the car and drove the three of us aimlessly around downtown, as we
gazed at the dark road ahead being swallowed up by the car in long stringy pieces. Faye interrupted the silence of our individual thoughts and asked the question, whose answer i feared.
"Hey, Van are you all right?"
Glancing back, I saw Van's chin begin to quiver which she quickly concealed by pulling the neck of her shirt up over her face.
I realize now that this lady probably wouldn't have heard anythig I had to say regardless of how eloquent i could articulate my ideas. But there is the chance that some sort of tolerance or understanding was established between us, and maybe an old lady could defend herself angainst a vicious dog with just her purse, and maybe she could even talke the dog out of attacking her; however, i'm certain that
if the dog wasn't responding to either tactic her best option would be to hobble away, as fast as her brittle bones could carry her.
Email: villavillacola@mindspring.com
