Never Draw Fire On Your Own Position [FICTOID]

As he got out of his car, the woman in the silver-white Porsche SUV pulled up behind him.  She honked her horn then rolled down her passenger window to yell, “You moron!  You almost hit me!”

The old man thought, No, I was in the main traffic lane in the parking lot, you were pulling out.  You are obliged to let me go first.

But instead he cupped his hand to his ear and said, “What?”

“You almost caused an accident!” the woman shouted again.

He stepped up to her car.  “Sorry, I’m hard of hearing.  What did you say?”

“I said you almost caused an accident!”

The old man leaned his head in through the open passenger window, resting his arms on the frame so his elbows hung over inside her car.

The woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties and more high maintenance than her car, glared at this invasion of her personal space.  “Get out of my car!”

“What?” the old man said, cupping his hand behind his ear again.  “You need to speak louder.  Got my hearing all messed up back in the field artillery.”

A car horn honked impatiently behind them, wanting the woman to move.

Which she couldn’t do.  Not with the old man leaning into her car. 

The woman shouted two words at him.

“What?” he asked again.

He saw the toddler sitting in a child seat behind the woman.  “Hey, kiddo,” said, wiggling his fingers at the child.

The mother shouted her two words once more.

“What?” the old man repeated, hand cupped to ear.

Now a second car horn sounded, traffic backing up behind the silver-white Porsche.

The woman shouted her two words for a third time.

The old man turned to the child.  “I can’t hear what you mommy is saying.  Can you repeat them for me?”

“Fug goo!” said the toddler brightly.

“Would you mind repeating that?  I’m a little hard of hearing.”

“Fug goo!” said the toddler.  “Fug goo!  Fug goo!  Fug goo!”

Hatred flashed in the woman’s eyes as she stared at the old man.  She did not like the vocabulary lesson he just imparted on her child.  “Sweetie, we don’t say those words.”

“Fug goo!” said the toddler.  “Fug goo!  Fug goo!”

A third car horn chimed in.  Now the drivers leaned on them incessantly.

“There’s an old Army saying that applies in situations like this,” the man said.  “’Never draw fire on your own position.’  Don’t tick off old guys, we’re ornery bastards.”

He stepped back from the silver-white Porsche and slapped his hand twice on the roof.  “Roll out!”

The woman floored her accelerator and shot off.

“Fug goo!” said the toddler, waving good-bye to their new friend.

© Buzz Dixon