It happened at about 8:15 this morning, and as I write this almost 12 hours later, I am still in disbelief.
The Man called me at work and asked if I had a minute to talk. “Uh oh,” I thought. He proceeded to tell me about his encounter with the mobile home park owner where my parents live.
First, some background. The Boy goes to Grammy’s during the day while we work in the summer, and gets dropped off there after school during the school year. He likes to walk along the drive that runs by in front of the trailer, always barefoot. When cars come, always extremely slowly because a) they are mostly old people who live there, and b) there are 101 speed bumps on the half-mile of drive around the small park, he gets off the road to let them pass.
Today, the owner told The Man that we need to keep our “retarded kid inside.”
Yup, you read that right, word for word.
He then backtracked and told The Man that he couldn’t “play” on the road. He could play on the empty lot at the bend in the road a few doors down, but he couldn’t play in the road because he had gotten complaints, and he had almost been hit by several cars.
Seemingly unaware of how many laws he had already broken, he went on to provoke The Man even further, and continued to use the r-word even after The Man had corrected him. I’m amazed this guy didn’t end up in the hospital. The Man handled it like a rockstar, and ended the conversation before he could get into trouble. He, too, is still livid 12 hours later.
I got off the phone with The Man and realized I felt like I had been punched or smacked in the face. I read a recent post by Autism Daddy where he wondered where all the hatred was. Apparently it lives down here.
The Man, Grammy and Poppy and I are all seething with anger and injustice, but like smart people, we are devising just how best to deal with this worthless human being. Grammy has a speech prepared for the next time she encounters this poor excuse for a man, and we will have to see how he responds and go from there. His intent is to piss us off enough that my parents will move out, and his “problem” will be solved. But you know what? They aren’t going anywhere. And The Boy will continue to walk where he pleases. We won’t engage with this jackhole, and we won’t be threatened or intimidated. He went so far over the line that he has absolutely no recourse now but to shut up and go away. Anything else will be met with quick and swift response from us, and it will not end well for him.
I’m interested to see what will happen next. You?