Little Man Syndrome
It's an epidemic, and one that I have little patience for.
I'm in the process of trying to sell my car, so I decided to give it an overdue wash. After a long day of work, I drive past my house and head up to 82nd, a little piece of hell in it's own right.
About a block before the car wash, a big Pontiac juts out right in front of me forcing me to slam on my breaks. Then, half way out in the road he just sits there as I try to move around him. I glare at him as I pass.
After following me to the exit, and through the carwash, the guy actually has the nerve to pull up next to me at the vacuuming station, get out of the car and confront me while I am minding my business, disposing of nasty melted lipgloss and other strange debris.
The man is a good 4 inches shorter than me, and for those who don't know it, I'm not exactly a tall girl.
littleman: I can't believe you, don't you accept it when people make a mistake?
He proceeds to yell at me for giving him a dirty look, and I begin to tease him for having that bother him so much that he had to follow me into the parking lot and talk to me about it.
I tell him he doesn't know me or what I'm about, or what kind of day I had. He’s lucky that a dirty look is such a great offense. He says he doesn't care what I’m going through, so I chide him about being such a big man, defending his pride at the carwash.
He walks away and I go about my work, but he comes back. He tells me to act my age (not sure what he thought that was) and I tell him, Fine. I'm sorry, so sorry. I apologize. Now walk away littleman, walk away.
My hands were shaking. If I was a guy, there would be no way in hell he would have had the balls to get out of his car. I was so upset once I got home. I just don't understand. And littlemen usually like me. Me and my perfectly placed RACK.
