People wonders where I get the characters from I write about?
I get them from observing people. Everyday life.
Like just the other day, a man was blocking the space I needed to turn into to get to a parking prime space. (Yes, I had already circled the parking lot twice and there was no spaces available.)
I understand waiting for your wife to come out the store but that’s what parking spaces are for and if you can’t find one nearby then move on to the next parking lot if you aren’t shopping. You don’t block the entire lane because your honey is shopping and will be coming out the store. You take your behind and park elsewhere and wait. My husband used to do it all the time. It’s no big deal.
After waiting about a minute and a half in a crowded parking lot. I politely gestured him to move over and all he had to do was maneuver the car closer to the left and let me pass but instead, he looked angrily at me as if how dare I had the audaciously to ask him to move over and shot an one-fingered Italian ‘birdie’ at me. I assumed he thought I was an American who was totally culturally illiterate.
I glared at him.
But I held my peace and didn’t return the obscene gesture. The “American” styled middle finger. No, he wasn’t Italian but had he been, it made no difference. He was still being rude and refusing to move.
There was another man behind me. Who kept gesturing for me to move on. I gestured back, “I can’t. The lane is blocked.”
He saw it. He briskly got out of his car and walked passed my car window, strided the distance between me and the rude man and reached in the man’s car, dragged him out the window and punched him in the face and kept punching, yelling, “I’m sick and tired of A-holes like you. Always picking on women and children. Now move the f**king car so this lady can get out of my way!”
After traffic started moving again, another brave young man decided it was OK to sped past me and get the spot I was vying for. Mr. Face Basher made him move and go look elsewhere by I had been waiting at least fifteen minutes for that spot.
So to me, that was the premises for a character’s action. I didn’t know any of these people. But if an author is involved in a situation there’s nothing anyone can do about how they write it up.
Did the police show up? No. I don’t think anyone called them. I assumed everyone felt it was safer handling the dispute themselves. But I think everyone was too busy applauding the man who got the traffic moving again.
I didn’t learn anything that day. But I hope Mr. Bust Face did. I hope he learnt: you take yourself and park your car if your honey is too fragile to wander through the parking lot to find you, then you tell them to call you when they are finished shopping and you drive by the curb and pick them up. You don’t hold up a line of cars for minutes on no end because someone just might be having a bad day and snaps. I hope he learnt the whole world is not fascinated with your significant other and stop behaving as if they should be. That’s how to avoid getting your face bashed in. Politeness is golden.