Just when you thought it was safe to park...

A funny thing happened to me the other night. Well, it didn't happen to me as much as I was held up by something that happened.

I was at the Arclight in LA on Monday night. I was actually in the parking structure trying to find a parking spot to get to the Arclight when this happened. See, I was following some guy in an old Mercedes who, I just assumed, was also looking for a parking space. As we rounded another corner in this long trip through the building, this guy threw his water bottle out of the window and at a parked car.

How fucking rude, I thought. What a fucking retard. Who would blatantly throw their trash out of their window and at a parked car?? [don't answer that, it's rhetorical] So, my mind is throwing out different adjectives describing the fucktard driving his old Mercedes with, by the way, a license plate holder indicating his status as USC Alumni. I guess even good schools churn out stupid people.

So, I'm filling my head with obscenities about this guy and all of a sudden, he stops his friggin' car and starts yelling at some woman. Is this a domestic despute, I thought? Do these two people know each other? As I listened on to the guy rambling on, I saw the woman produce the very same water bottle previously discarded by this prick.

The guy was obviously pissed off. Did this woman steal his parking spot? Pee in his Cheerios? Turn him down for a date to take a tour of his glorious USC campus? I dunno but when he got out of his car to face this apparent spoiler of his good spirit I was, like, bring it down to a 10, dude!

I watched as this little man, balding and pudgy yet still young, address this woman somewhat face to face. I thought he was going to take her on, do something stupid. She stood her ground and her body language indicated nothing in the way of fear. It was almost as if she were mocking him.

As I sat there, watching this drama unfold, two things came to my mind: should I get out of the car and assist this young lady in her troubles and, dude, get in your fucking car and leave this woman alone.

I didn't get out of the car. And after a few moments of discomfort, wondering what this douchebag was going to do, he ended up getting back into his car. Yet, he was still yelling at this calm and collected, though mocking, woman. After a few moments of his childish ranting, I had enough. I yelled at the twit to move his fucking car. I mean, shit, he had blocked the way for at least 5 minutes trying to demean this rock of a woman. They both looked at me and I them. Then, in disgust, the man put his car into drive and took off. On a side note, should children be allowed to drive Mercedes Benzes? And should USC approach this wanker and ask him for his license plate holder back? Questions that I'll never know the answers to.

As I drove around and, eventually, found a spot to park, I wondered. Should I have gotten out of my car to help this woman? I mean, she didn't seem like she needed help but, still, I just sat there. This guy, though non-threatening in any way (in fact, he looked like a beady little troll now that I think about it), looked as though he was going to assault this woman somehow and I didn't want to get involved. Does this make me a pussy, even though I just didn't want to get involved? Is chivalry dead?

Then it donned on me that maybe this woman wouldn't have wanted help. Would she have chastised me for actually coming to her aid? Would she have been one of those feminist holier-than-thou bitches that thinks she could've taken care of herself in times of trouble (I'm sure she would have kicked this guy's ass if it came down to it. He was a fucking tard)? And if so, would she just have accused me of being a sexist fuck for thinking that she's a lesser person because of her gender? Because, you know, LA, particularly Hollywood, has a lot of these independent, feminist women around and about. And, don't get me wrong, I love feminists. They stand for something important. They're great. Just a little delusional.

I guess it still bothers me, almost a week later, that I didn't do anything for this woman. I could have just gotten out of the car, asked if there was a problem and told the little troll to go about his business; sometimes life isn't fair and we should deal with it in a calm and collected way and then move on. And if the woman was a feminist bitch, I would have just had to deal with it and move on, knowing that some people can never be grateful. There is a third scenario, of course.. I could have gotten out, helped and then gotten her number. Her number, damn it! And therein lies the rub... I could've gotten her number. Damn. Folly strikes again.

Oh, the movie you ask? Hancock. Media screening. Go out and see it. Just as you should go out and see Wanted. Two great summer flicks.