Dillan DiGiovanni regrets that he fought with a guy over a parking spot.
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So, one time I got into a fight with a guy over a parking spot.
I wish I could say it happened when I was a teenager.
Nope.
It happened about two months ago.
It wasn’t a physical fight, I’ve never had one of those actually. And, in fact, it was quite comical in nature. No derogatory slurs were exchanged but I do admit to being guilty of some fierce ageism. It was probably one of the most tame interactions (fights) that this particular neighborhood square has even seen.
Yet, it was still a fight. And I felt heated and angry and we were both doing our best to live up to rather typical male stereotypes and expectations, consciously or not. People had to witness our interaction and even be disturbed by it. It was far from the civil, respectful and calm conversation that could have or should have been had between men over something simple like a parking spot.
But the testosterone and socialized behavioral norms were too powerful over good common sense. It was macho behavior, plain and simple. He stood his ground, I stood mine and neither one of us wanted the other one to win—based purely on male ego and performance. My Buddhist practice disappeared in seconds and I don’t feel good about it and don’t want to do it ever again. It solved nothing. I didn’t feel good about myself and hardly speak about it because I feel embarrassed that I behaved that way in public.
Over a parking spot, mind you. A parking spot.
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It began with me putting on my right blinker to back into a spot on my passenger side. As I put the car in reverse, I backed up and had my car at a 45 degree angle to the curb. I was clearly, clearly, backing into the spot.
I saw a car slide into the spot behind me, missing my car by a few inches as I looked over my shoulder. I backed up a few more inches so he was sure where I was headed. He didn’t move. I put my car in park and stared at him through the rear windshield.
He stared back, made a face and raised his hands in the air as if to say, “what? what’s your deal?”
I opened my car door and walked the three steps to his door. He lowered the window and I said, “you can see the directional and my car at a 45 degree angle. I’m clearly backing into the spot.”
“Oh,” he said. “I didn’t see the directional.”
I said, “ok, well you can see it now. See it flashing? And you can see how my car is facing and it’s backing into the spot. Can you find another spot?”
“Why don’t you find another one?” he asked. He clearly didn’t care that he took my spot.
Now, I was pissed. It wasn’t an accident. It was beyond unintentional. He was being a jerk.
I won’t do the play-by-play of the conversation for you. Suffice it to say that I expressed that the directional was all I had in the form of communicating my parking intentions from inside a car and he needed to learn how to drive, etc. etc.
He told me to go away. I stood still and felt the heat rising up from my heart and into my throat.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. This guy needed to get the hell out of my spot because he was being a complete and total jerk. Someone needed to teach him a lesson. I’m not moving. He’s a punk. I don’t need this. These were just a few of the many things running through my head.
I got back in my car, put it in reverse and inched toward his car. He freaked out. It was a Benz, so I might have freaked out, too. He jumped out of the car and I got out of mine and he threatened to call the cops and took a picture of my plate. I went around the front of his car and took a picture of his plate. I was totally present to how ridiculous and immature this whole scenario was but I didn’t care. It was like my body was possessed. I hated guys who acted like this and now I was being that guy. But I couldn’t help it. He wasn’t going to win, dammit!
When his girlfriend shouted through the windshield, “can you just leave us alone?” I pointed my finger at her and told her to be quiet. “I can’t believe you’re fighting over a parking spot,” she said.
I liked to think she meant both of us. But I was older so it really should have just been directed at me. Or not. I’m not sure.
I finally gave up and began to get into my car but first recommended that he learn to drive and learn the rules of the road (oooh, so fierce) and when he made some comment under his breath about denting his car or something, I said, “yeah, you wouldn’t want to ruin the car Daddy bought you.”
He didn’t like that comment very much. He protested that he bought it himself as I smugly drove away.
I’m not completely against confrontation, but the ego and machismo I brought to that interaction was nothing other than an epic failure.
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I drove around the corner and it took a good five minutes for my heartbeat to slow down. I felt the blood rushing throughout my body. I thought to myself, “I want to smash something.” But I wasn’t sure what. I sat there and breathed and shook my head and the anger dissipated until I was only left with shame and regret. I had acted like a total asshole and people saw that and it was over a parking spot. I got in a fight with a 20-year-old kid over a stupid parking spot.
Granted, he was wrong. But…seriously? What was I trying to prove? And what had I achieved or gained other than mild chest pains and headache? MAN, was my heart racing. I could actually feel the adrenaline and cortisol pumping through my veins.
He had won. He had taken my spot AND I had looked like a overreactive fool.
I’m sharing these details because I was never more inspired than when a great teacher of mine shared intimate details of a story of her at her worst moment. I wouldn’t do myself, this story or you any service if I wasn’t honest. While I can’t undo that interaction, I can at least share it for the good it might do for someone else.
I’m not completely against confrontation, but the ego and machismo I brought to that interaction was nothing other than an epic failure. I like to think if the terms were different, if it was a real justice issue at stake, that I would behave the same way.
But right now, I just tell the story of the time I allowed some punk kid to make me lose my shit and embarrass myself. Over a parking spot.
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Feature photo: Angelo DeSantis/Flickr
Photos courtesy of the author
We’ve all had moments where we let our masculine egos get the best of us. Thanks for sharing we’re all human in our journeys towards progress, not perfection.
Really though, in a Just World, you would be entirely within your legal rights to slash his tires and key a dick in his door.
Unfortunately, we have a world that serves the interests of dicks and assholes.
Yeah, well, if he was putting on a show for his gf, then he showed what an asshole he was. And if she thinks that’s acceptable then she is just as much of a jerk. And if so then they’re made for each other and will save two other innocent people from a life of misery. :). BTW, he was a cowardly asshole that she should see that too, because when you pointed your finger at her and told her to shut up he didn’t come to her defense at all. So you really got two points ahead!
I think what you were experiencing was not just maleness in operation Dillan, but something all animals experience when their possessions are threatened. You are basically standing over your “kill” and an interloper swoops in to grab it, and the fight begins. And rightfully so. Don’t be so hard on yourself, it was a visceral reaction coming from the primitive part of our brain. Your human civilized brain overrid that when you backed off, but you didn’t back off from fear but because of civility. There’s a real difference for a guy.
thanks, Mark. I appreciate you making the distinction. I definitely wasn’t afraid–you’re right. I was in total disbelief that he was being so rude and stubborn when he was clearly in the wrong. I guess he thought I would just move along and didn’t expect me to put up so much of a fight. The reason I wrote it wasn’t because I was defending my “kill” as you said, haha, but the way in which I did it. good lessons for next time…
I said, “yeah, you wouldn’t want to ruin the car Daddy bought you.”
He didn’t like that comment very much. He protested that he bought it himself as I smugly drove away.
nice dillan, you wounded him good there. even when he is eighty he will remember that, with all the attendant emotion
great comment mark
Don’t be so hard on yourself, it was a visceral reaction coming from the primitive part of our brain
i think not just the primitive centres but also from the moral centres too. i felt my indignation rise as i read – it was dillan’s bloody spot.
You handled it pretty well. I honestly would have just left soon as he took it, then came back 5 minutes later and keyed a dick in his driver side door.
nothing permanent. you have to be subtle but still intimidating. you want to get in his head, you want him wondering if that car cruising slowly past his place at night might just be you come to exact your revenge. a vague but intimidating note. signed “see you at work tomorrow” or something. you can also send a letter to people through the DMV (In Cali, at least) by using their license plate number. that might be pretty scary later on. or you could pee in the gas tank and be done with it. there are a lot of options… Read more »
Sam, I didn’t want revenge really. I wanted him to do the right thing and back out and move on to another spot. But he clearly wasn’t interested in doing that and maybe even enjoyed putting on a show for his girlfriend. I’ll never know but I do hope he learns something from the experience.
Yeah, Dan. I definitely considered that while I was fuming in my car. Since I would never want anyone to do that to me, I thought better of it.