Horrible Day
Jul. 13th, 2011 04:03 pmAnd then it happened.
I was out getting carts and a man and his wife and kid returned to their car. A man who'd parked next to them had noticed that they'd left dogs in the car, and it was really hot out. He must have said something about that, because the other man starting yelling and swearing and calling the man a "retard" among other things and it was HORRIBLE. I was so scared. I was scared for the poor guy who just cared about those dogs, I was scared for the other people in the parking lot, and I was scared for me. I wanted to help. It got to the point where I thought the yelling swearing man would hit the other guy (the other guy was not especially ... smart. I'd have gotten into my car and fled the minute the big guy started swearing, but this guy just kept trying to make his point about the dogs.) and if that happened I was going to run inside for the manager so they could send out help. I wasn't sure what we could legally do, send out the produce guys to break it up? Call the cops? But I didn't want to leave in case he did start hitting the guy because then I'd be a witness and I'd have to get the scary guy's license plate. I started memorizing it in case.Thankfully it didn't come to that, but it was so close, it was like something from a movie where an abusive guy loses it.
Finally the scary guy got into his car and started to drive off, but he paused. His wife was telling him to leave. I got even more afraid, because he was blocking the other guy into his parking space. I was worried the scary guy would get out and start attacking him. He even opened his door a little. But he drove off, spending a long time flipping the other guy off before he did. I ran up to the other guy (who was in his car) and said I was sorry about all of that. I agreed that I'd heard the dogs whining in the car.
I'm afraid for that man's wife and kid. The kid was little, not much more than 8, if that. I'm afraid for his dogs. I'm afraid for the next well-meaning person who runs afoul of him. Maybe next time it'll be dark, or the man will be drunk, or his wife won't convince him to stay in the car and leave.
So because of how crummy I'd already been feeling, the heat, my exhaustion, my con-withdrawl, my hormones, and how scary that had all been, I started crying. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. I got back inside and held on for about five minutes before I broke down. One of the shift-leaders pulled me aside and when I told her what happened she gave me a hug and told me to go sit down somewhere. One of my bosses called me into the office to sign something, so then I told her and cried a lot. She said some nice things and told me to go get some water. I cried a lot in the bathroom and calmed down and went back to work. The shift-leader said some nice things to me, too.
That was AWFUL.