Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Saturday, Feb. 14, 2004 - 3:34 a.m.

Why does IE hate me so? Why, why, why? ::sigh:: Another entry bites the dust.

Suffice to say my website is finally up and running, and I like to think niftily named: Dragonfly Design. Or, that's the company name. The website is actually dragonfly-jewelry. DD was taken. Whatever.

The other part of the entry which was eaten is that some psychotic random fuck in a big black SUV ran me off the road a week ago for absolutely no reason whatsofuckingever. He actually passed me on the street, sped away, pulled over around a corner and waited for me, pulled out after and then up next to me and started calling me a fucking c*nt and telling me he was going to kill me, chased me down, ran me off the road, boxed me in, got out and beat the crap out of my car - all while screaming he was going to kill me and calling me that name. When he came at me with the big giant Maglight flashlight (the really huge kind that takes 5 D batteries, is made out of steel and weighs a ton), I started screaming at him that I had no idea what all this was about, that he was scaring me and please not to hurt me, and he screamed shut up and some more about how he was going to kill me and then went back and pounded on my car some more. Which, btw, was hellishly fucking loud. All this at 1 am in a quiet residential "neighborhood watch" neighborhood, which is a fucking joke, because I actually drove my car up on someone's lawn and leaned on my horn, and this dickless goathumping fuck was screaming the entire time that he was going to kill me, and I was screaming I didn't know him, and not a single fucking loser asshole on the whole goddamned street bothered to call the frigging police. I had to do it when he finally sped away. I had already done it, during the whole mess, but fucking SprintPCS sucks, and while the call "connected," it didn't actually go thru, being, as it was, one of Sprint's ubiquitous "dropped calls," a euphemism for "we charge you anyway for a call which never goes thru, especially the one fucking time you really, really need it to because you're in danger of being beaten to fucking death by a stranger on someone else's front fucking lawn." When I FINALLY got the goddamned call to connect to actual 911, it took the cops 25 fucking minutes to show up. THEN I get out of my frigging car, and all I can say is that Honda makes a hell of an automobile, because all there was were 5 tiny dents in my car and no busted lights or windows, even though I know for fact he hit my back window, and he *must* have hit the tail lights. I think the police figured I exaggerated the whole damn thing, because they kept asking me if I was SURE he hit my car. Like that's a friggin' thing I'd be confused on. I've been in enough accidents to know what it sounds like when a car gets struck by another car, and trust me, the volume of that sound has nothing on the volume produced every time that asshole hit my car. I was literally astonished when the cops showed up and I got out of my car to look at it and it looked pretty much like it had when I got into it. They were going to put vandalism on the police report, but I flipped out at that and told them they had got to be fucking kidding me (and yes, I did say exactly that), so the one said well, he did say he was going to kill me (several times, I might add), so that qualified it as a criminal threat, which is a felony crime, not a misdemeanor, which made me feel slightly more like I was being taken seriously.

Now, the one rumor which I feel I really need to dispel is the myth that says that if you get the first 4 digits of a person's license plate, the police can use that to find the car. Wrong. This is not, as the cops so gingerly pointed out, television. If I were DEAD and someone else had given them the 4 digits I was able to see on the fucking asshole's SUV, they would take the manpower and do the work. However, as I am NOT dead, it's not a high enough priority to spend the time on. Hence, this asshole, whom I am sure beats his wife or girfriend, and who probably attacks other defenseless people on a regular basis, will never be caught. They would, however, the policemen assured me, keep an eye out the rest of the night for the fucking truck. Great.

Myth #2 is that when you call 911 and give a description of a suspect to the dispatcher, that description immediately goes out over the air, so that all units in the vicinity can keep an eye out for the perpetrator. Yeah, no. That doesn't actually happen until the policemen finally fucking show up 25 minutes later, talk to you for a while, ascertain something actually did happen, ask you to describe the whole incident 3 or 4 times, write up the report, and then finally call the whole thing in. At which point the random asshole who terrified you has long since left the scene and is in fact probably home and climbing into bed or popping the top on another cold one and terrorizing his girlfriend or wife. Peachy.

So that was my night last Thursday, which pretty much shot my weekend, and which still has me jumpy and shaking and REALLY hating driving, especially after dark, though Jonny C is supercool, so now I get off work at 11p instead of 1a, which makes it a lot easier, because there are more people around and the roads aren't deserted, but I still get freaked out every time I get ready to leave for work, and when people honk at me, which they do often, because this is fucking LA, a city entirely comprised of people who think the world revolves around them AND their fucking car, and that everyone should just get out of their way right now and start into the intersection at least 2.5 seconds before the light actually turns green. Not to mention the number of black SUV's on the road. So, yeah. I'm enjoying my commute right now. Boy. Am I.

Aside from that, I guess it's all okay. Happy Valentine's Day.

Peace out,
Katie

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Yesterday's News - Next Stop

In which Katie shares sad news - Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2015
In which Katie returns after a very long absence - Monday, Jun. 25, 2012
In which Katie pokes her head in and brushes some of the cobwebs away - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
In which Katie asks you to write your congressman again. - Monday, Jun. 02, 2008
In which Katie asks you to please click the link and send the message to protect the rights of artists - Wednesday, May. 21, 2008