It is with great, swelling pleasure that I have Lisha Fink of The Lucky Mom here today. I got to spend a while day with Lisha in real life when I was in New Orleans a few years ago. Lisha is the mother to three sons and the wife to one husband. As far as I’m concerned, they are the lucky ones. An advocate for education, Lisha’s heart is huge. A volunteer in her children’s schools and an active member in her church and community, y’all, this woman walks the walk. Everything she writes is sublime. Don’t believe me? Read her blog. Then follow her at @lishafink.
A Real Whack Job by Lisha Fink
There are a few things in life you can count on with certainty. The sun will rise every morning, it will set every evening, and if you go to Wal-Mart on Saturday you’ll see something crazy.
As I pulled into the parking lot on that blazing August day I saw it: the coveted shady spot.
I took the key out of the ignition and opened the door.
That’s when I saw him.
Wearing a t-shirt and flip flops.
The jar of Vaseline in the shotgun seat made his intentions clear.
“Really?” I said aloud.
My first instinct was to leave. I sat back down and put the key back in the ignition.
Then I got mad.
How dare he? How many other people had he freaked out?
He wasn’t going to make me leave.
Because you don’t get away with being a pervert around me.
And because I really wanted that parking spot.
So I put my keys back in my purse and turned in his direction.
And stared him down.
In hindsight, I regret the staring part because the image of what I saw is now burned forever in my mind. And because he got a good look at me, too.
I left my car, determined to find someone to tell. As I approached the police officer on duty at the store entrance, I wondered what I was going to say.
Now, I know quite a few euphemisms for what he was doing. But in the anxious moments as I approached the officer, I was trying to decide which awkward words were going to come out of my mouth.
“Um…. excuse me. There’s a guy in his car over there….”
The officer looked at me with a blank stare.
“He’s all by himself…”
I just couldn’t find the words. So I pointed.
“He’s in his car. That blue car over there next to the red SUV.”
By this time the cop was started to get irritated that I couldn’t seem to get my message out.
“He’s… um… enjoying himself. In his car. By himself.”
His surprised look told me that he got it.
I gestured toward the car and he assured me that he’d investigate.
I was thinking that somehow this guy was going to find some pants and get dressed and drive off before the cop got there, with my license plate committed to memory and my dumb stare memorized. Then I’d be looking over my shoulder for this deviant for the rest of my life.
Grabbing a cart, I looked back at the officer approaching the car, radio in hand. Hoping that good would prevail, I filled my cart with Cheerios and fruit roll ups and an extra bottle of wine.
I paid for my groceries and headed for the door.
Outside, I saw the car. Still there. Parked next to mine.
There was no way on earth I was going back to my car if this guy was there.
Waiting for me.
Frantically, I searched for the cop I had already talked to, but he was nowhere to be found. There was another officer, but then I’d have to explain again.
Once more I stood there frozen, trying to decide what to do. I could call my husband to come get me. Or take a cab. Or abandon $100 worth of groceries and just walk home.
But that was stupid. I had to get to my car.
So I approached the other officer.
“Ummm…. When I got here, there was a guy parked next to me.”
“He was in his car. By himself. Anyway, would you walk me to my car?”
Blank stare. He must’ve thought I was crazy asking for a police escort in broad daylight.
Just about that time, the other officer approached to inform me that Mr. No Pants had been arrested. Something about outstanding attachments, and that by now he was getting settled in at his new home in jail.
So I went to my car, loaded the groceries in the back hatch.
As I walked around to open my door, I couldn’t help but look in.
Vaseline smeared everywhere, flip flops abandoned on the floor.
I couldn’t shake the image of him getting tossed into a police car wearing just a shirt.
I picked up the phone and told Mr. Wonderful to be ready to help unload groceries.
And to have a glass of wine ready for me when I got home.
Any *ahem* embarrassing moments in a parking lot?
tweet us @lishafink & @rasjacobson
Ewww. Scary, yet just…ewww. The things you’ll go through for a bottle of wine. I *need* to run to Walmart today, but now I’m rethinking my options. I usually bolt in and out with blinders on though–my memory has been scared too many times in that place.
I know better than to go there on weekends. I know better. And I did it anyway. The things we go through to save a few bucks. 🙂
I was at a shady Wal-Mart once and had my checkbook in my hand when a strange man was walking the opposite direction. He came closer and closer and grabbed my checkbook… however I did not let go. I held onto that thing for about a minute and screamed at the top of my lungs. He eventually ran away and I found a cop and asked him to hunt the dude down.
Ugh. Tried to snatch it from your hands? Good for you for putting the law on him. Perhaps he and my friend will make one another’s acquaintance some day behind bars.
Sorry you had to go through that.
He had a worse day than I. I got to go home and drink wine to calm my nerves. 🙂 He ended the day in jail.
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Just gross! Fun story for us though!
I’m glad you enjoyed it. It took me about one minute to decide what story to use when Renee asked me to be part of So Wrong! I actually had another story in mind first, but I don’t think the statute of limitations has run out on that one. I’ll save it for 2017.
This is why I don’t go to Wally World. Perverts inside and out, it’s not worth the money you save to grocery shop there. That impression will never leave your mind.
The most embarrassing parking incident in my life was parking out at the lake with a cute guy, steamy windows and a cop knocking on the window.
This was the WM in my part of town, at noon on a Saturday. I guess perverts need sunlight, too.
Once, when I was very pregnant, I was driving home from work, stopped at a light, when I looked over at the driver to the left of me. As I was in a Blazer and he was in a non-descript sedan, I sat a bit higher and had a front row seat to the self pleasuring he was doing while STARING at me. With a bit of vomit in my mouth and thoughts of the horror I would feel had my child been sitting in a car seat behind me, I had the common sense to take down his license plate and call the police when I got home. An officer came to my home, took my report, and asked me to come to the station the next day. They had a pretty good idea who the perv was but I first had to ID him through a mug shot. With 15 or so photos lined up in front of my and a bead of sweat forming at my temple, I finally had to admit I coudn’t ID him because I didn’t see much of his face; it was another part of his anatomy that had burned itself into my brain and scarred my memory.
I understand exactly what you mean. I remember this creeper had long, frizzy hair. But that’s about all I remember of his face.
Ew! Good for you for doing the right thing! You lived to tell the tale! 🙂
Many years ago, I was nursing my newborn inside my own car, with a blanket covering all the action. It was a little warm, so I had the window rolled down a bit. Hubby was inside the hardware store and pervy dude came out and noticed me. He headed straight for my car and made some quick but crude comments as he passed by. No cop in sight, and no cell phones in those days.
Oh no. I would have freaked out with my baby in the picture. I felt all empowered as I headed for the cop, Helen Reddy tunes buzzing through my head. The perv picked the wrong person to victimize that day!
Gross thing I learned working for 911- it happens more often than we’d all like to imagine! Thank goodness he was arrested and bravo for reporting him. Some people are really just so nasty. Yuck.
Yuck! When I was a teenager, I was walking near my house and a car started to pull over. I looked because I figured they needed directions, and Mr. No Pants’ brother was sitting in the driver’s seat. I quickly walked away in the other direction but … really? Do I need that image in my head forever?
People. Are. Crazy.
Why is we always lose our vocabulary when we most need it? Terrible experience. One must wonder though why a parking lot in broad daylight? Isn’t this just a bit over the top, it nearly seems he wanted to be caught.
Thank you for sharing this one, two really large glasses of wine would have been needed; that and eye wash.
YIKES! I don’t blame you for wanting an escort to your car in case Mr Happy Pants was still there. I’m just thankful we don’t have Walmart in Australia! Although we do still have perverts…
disgusting, so sorry you had to experience that.. no other words. ewww
haha. ew!! 😉
Oh Jeeez Louise, no. I have never experienced anything like that. Good for you for turning that creep in! Only problem is I’ll never look at another jar of vaseline the same way again.
The real tragedy here is that you no longer get invited to parties or social events.
It happened like this. Since the Walmart car park incident, every time you’re at a party and the host or hostess asks you this question: Hey Lisha, are you enjoying yourself? – You react badly, slapping the host and storming out in high dudgeon, muttering How Dare They.
Such a simple phrase. Ruined. Forever.
OK, hands down, that story beats any bad experience I have ever had; EVER! LOL, thx for sharing.
Oh my gosh! That is waaaay crazier than anything I’ve ever experienced in a parking lot. I once got a concussion in a parking lot but I was drunk and it involved a 1983 camaro convertible. No vaseline though.
I was riding the subway one day a few years ago and happened to look to my left, and there was a man pleasuring himself in the seat across from me! I was so mad, but I was in a situation with no police, although there were others on the train. I was a teenager at the time, too, so I felt scared to say anything. Another time on the subway a man was sitting next to me, and wound up cupping his hand under my butt! I freaked out and he got off of the train!