Monday, April 23, 2007

in a northwest neighborhood

In the middle of painting this picture, some one pulls up in their tan, late-nineties sedan, wanting to park where I was sitting, on a street curb. I would have been understanding, and moved, because I know how hard it is to find a parking spot around NW 21st, but this person, who I couldn't see through the glare on their windows, was communicating their request in a barrage of screaming insults. I thought they might be joking at first. But the insults kept comming. This guy told me that I should get my dirty Oregonian ass up out of the god damned street. As the insults continued, I began to realise that this guy wasn't joking at all. He began to back his car up. I got up and walked to his open window asking him to just calm down for a second. He was in his fifties. He wore small round sunglasses, and a blazer. The insults only grew louder. I was pissed at this point. I asked him what was troubling him. Was it his wife, his children, unpaid bills. He said his wife was fine, he had no children, and that I was a typical dumb ass Oregonian, wanting to get all touchy feely, and talk about our troubles. He said that he was from "back east". This really got me. What the hell was this guy talking about? I told him I was from "back east" too. I pulled my bike out of the street before he ran over it. He continued his insults while climbing out of his car. He was saying he couldn't believe all of us dumb ass Oregonians. He said HE had to work. I replied that I was trying to work myself. He scurried away yelling how unimportant I was over his shoulder. I was speechless. Some woman poked her head out of the doorway she had hid behind and said she was sorry that I had had to deal with that freakish person.

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