More Mom & Dad Tales

Tonight, my dad expounded on the controversial topic of modern day Korean pop stars versus the classical Korean singer-performers of his generation, and doled out valuable counsel in between shots of Bek Se Ju, a tasty Korean rice wine that tastes like ginseng tea. He is a very wise man for someone who made so many mistakes in his lifetime- or I guess, because of the mistakes. He is also a fun person to drink with.

The other night, my mom and I stopped by at a Chevron. Filling the tank took no time, so afterward, I sat in the car waiting as my mom carried on with her newest obsession: wiping down the car with her dollar-store glass cleaner every chance she gets. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe.

Suddenly, about 30 feet to our right, this dude sprints to the car parked there and starts kicking the hell out of the car door, while the girl inside yells and curses her brains out. I'm sitting in the car in severe shock and thinking somewhere in the folds of my gray matter that I should dial 911, but I seem to have lost the ability to move to look for my phone, so I just stare stupidly. I think the Hamburger Helper hand, or even the Paper Clip from Word would have been more helpful than me.

Luckily, the girl herself brings out her cell and starts dialing 911, mute curses still streaming out of her mouth a mile a minute (her window was rolled up so I couldn't hear what she was saying, but her eyes and arm gestures said it all). Then, I guessed that the dude had taken enough of his anger out on the car because he ran away, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

But then, 30 seconds later, dude sprints back to the car, this time with a sledgehammer-type weapon in his hand and starts wacking the window with it! Bam bam bam! Pieces of glass start flying everywhere, and I'm thinking oh shit, phone phone phone oh shit! But then I realize it's the head of the weapon that's breaking into bits and flying everywhere, not the window. The guy I guess realizes the same thing, so after he wacks the shit out of the car window, he runs away again. For good this time.

Finally able to tear my eyes away from this scene, I look for my mom and realize that she's still cleaning the car window with her dollar-store imitation windex. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe.

Hoo hoo hoo lord! Every time I think of that night I burst out laughing as I picture my mom, this little Asian lady calmly wiping away at the stains on her car window while a full blown act of violence is taking place 30 feet behind her.