Thursday, 29 November 2012

Driving With My Uterus

It is possible, in Italy, to drive with one's uterus.

I have been told so by an angry old man - in dialetto Vicentino - who didn't approve of my parking efforts (I didn't want to sit in front of the school in a double line of cranky mothers and was trying to fit into a spot). The man, probably a beloved grandfather who likes those veline (dancing girls) on Berlusconi's busty TV shows, rolled down his window and shouted at me,

'BUT ARE YOU DRIVING WITH YOUR UTERUS??'

Whoahhh. This was thrown at me at a time when I had four kids under twelve, in four different schools in four different parts of town (with different timetables so sometimes I would find myself alone, parked in front of a closed school gate - shite it's Tuesday). PLUS I was living 25kms out of town, packing the kids into my crappy Lancia before dawn, listening to Hey Yah at full volume to drown out the fighting. (And bear in mind that I started driving at seventeen and have driven all over Europe and nearly all the way to Timbuctu in Mali, and clock up 400+kms a week...And my name is McNamara and I am a redhead.)

Povero nonno. Poor Grandfather. While I controlled myself and didn't get out of the car, (recently, I actually opened the car door of a woman whose bumper touched my leg on a crossing, see below*) I lost it. You know when you are truly incensed? When something has snapped and there is no one to stop you and that b*****d has pushed you too far when your life was addled enough as it is??

What would you reply - if you have one - if someone told you you were driving with your uterus? (And this raises the inevitable question, Do men drive with their penises?? Perhaps Audi drivers do, yes? I fear we have another post here.)

Well, my end of the shouting match included:

Do you even have a penis or has it fallen off?
Do you even remember what a hard-on is?
I bet you couldn't even get it up to have your own kids.
I bet you have cancer of the penis!


I mean, gosh, I feel so low even to think of it. It sounds as though I have penis-hatred or something but I swear I don't - it just came out as a Uterus VS Penis match I guess. All in front of my kid's school.

Oh Lord. Oh Mummy. But I swear it was a stellar performance.

After that I collected my son and drove off to my mother-in-law's where we had caffè corretto and laughed ourselves off our feet.


* This cow - I was in heels on cobbles in the rain - comes hurtling straight at me in the middle of a crossing and I freeze, not knowing whether to leap, lurch or put out the magic hand. She just touches my leg. I stand there, incredulous. I wanted to smash her car but had a micro-flash of intelligent thought, No, I can't damage my piano hands. And, Maybe I'll get arrested. So I hobbled around, opened her door (I swear I didn't swear) and said 'What do you think you are doing?' And then, 'I am the mother of four children! Are you going to finish bringing them up?'

Che idiota. I welcome your road rage comments. Help me to feel normal.

28 comments:

  1. OMG, I laughed so hard reading this! You are a rockstar, Catherine. Just picturing the Penis comments being shouted in front of school with an audience of gaping-mouthed mums and tots is enough to make me spit tea all over my keyboard! As far as I'm concerned: Uterus, 10. Penis, 0. You WON! Also loved your response to that stronza who pinned you in the crosswalk :-)

    I have experienced a fair share of road rage myself, and typically yell out in whichever language erupts first. Have to say, though, screaming at rude drivers in English seems to pack an unexpected punch--they freeze like deer caught in the headlights. They say the element of surprise is key.

    P.S. I'm sharing this post on my fb page, if you don't mind :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm glad you had a laugh! Sorry about the tea on your keyboard. Sometimes I get so out of control - it's the injustice of it! I'm really not a bad driver.

      Yes I had a speechless Padovano couple pull up next to me on Sunday. Speechless because I was waving them out of my face in English - I wasn't even angry, just fatigued by their arrogance. PLEASE. JUST. DISAPPEAR.

      Hard sometimes, isn't it? Go ahead with FB sharing - we can only laugh harder.

      Delete
  2. I love it! If someone shouted something like that at me (which they won't because I refuse to drive, here), I probably would lean out and shout "Sììììììììììììììììììì!!!! Non hai visto, Vecchione?!"

    But your answers were so much better! :)

    I had a similar experience in a crosswalk - I was nearly all the way across on a fairly quiet road when a car screeched to a halt mere inches next to me (if *I'd* been any slower, I'd have been hit). There was no way they could have justifiably been unaware of my presence in the road.

    I stopped short and spun around, let loose an oh-so-ladylike "Che cazzo fai, stronzo???" and barely resisted the urge to bang on the window of said vehicle. They didn't answer back, just drove off.

    The fellow running the edicola next to the crosswalk was very kind, saying all sorts of sympathetic things to me while I selected my magazine. It wasn't until I got to work I realized just how close the whole thing had been. I was jelly-legged for a while afterwards, and furious. But I also saw the humor in it. (Too bad my hubby never does.)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes I agree there has to be humour at the end of it. Otherwise you'd have a nervous breakdown. Or crazy blood pressure. I thinking pedestrian crossings are super dangerous!!

      Delete
  3. Crossing thing happened to me in Parma - I slammed my hand down on his bonnet & he looked apoplectic with rage as if I was at fault for nearly damaging his beloved car.

    Mind you, it isn't just Italians. I was back home in UK, carrying a giant toy rabbit (don't ask) when a lady vicar nearly hit me on a zebra crossing. I was so gobsmacked I didn't think to say til afterwards 'Keep your eyes on this world, not on the next'.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's exactly what I need to hear! That it's not confined to Italy. Thank you to your distracted vicar's wife, who perhaps you should have boffed on the head with your giant rabbit??

      Was the apoplectic bloke driving an Audi?

      Delete
  4. Very funny ... and also not so very funny! What a terrible thing to say to a lady!

    I found out that I am, when driving, talking (and worse) aloud in Dutch, commenting on all the bad drivers around me. It sort of keeps the stress down I believe, but often I am angry when I get out of my car. It seems the little (or not so little) box makes us (them!) very egoistic and unpleasant.

    Now I hope this talking in Dutch only takes place when I am driving ...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes I do agree, the box can bring out the worst in us.. Add a bad driver in front to a bad day and you have bad language!

      Mine tends to come out in Italian (ormai), but English provides some great slammers that are probably safer legally but best muttered.

      Delete
  5. Ha loveit!

    In France - Cannes to be precise the pedestrians would give me road rage! I have no problem stopping for peds on crossings go ahead please - but there was a woman who decided she was crossing 10m in front of the provided crossing and I saw her and rather than stop and let her pass I continued on to the crossing. she hurled abuse bashed the side of the car and my side window I was flabergasted! Peds in Cannes do my head in I always joke about how many I can mow down in one trip to the market!! Film festival and height of summer is the absolute worst!!!
    But I completely sympathise with you with the woman mowing you down at the crossing - completely out of order!!
    Similarly to you I was abused by some 'penis' as I parked on the very corner of a street recently as I was with the Grandmother and we had 3 children to pick up and still a bit of a walk. Not speaking the local lingo I just shrugged my hands at him and indicated there was plenty of room for him to get his weener down the street :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. May I just add the woman was not EVER in any danger of being hit - it was the fact she EXPECTED me to stop 'just for her' when it takes 10 times longer to get anywhere down that particular street than any other :)

      Delete
    2. Oh la la! Oldies in Cannes. You're lucky you didn't get your paintwork scratched with the bling. We have lots of contadini driving with their hats on around here - always steer clear. And I in town I got caught between two traffic lights where there were roadworks and a kindly gent standing there yelled 'Se tu orba?!' Are you blind??

      Aiuto. Help.

      Delete
  6. I have no stories that can even touch the Uterus vs. Penis showdown. Holy moly, I'm cracking a rib over here. Poor old guy didn't know whose uterus he was dealing with.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oops typos put ya caffè down cat!

      Averil you just wait till I tell you my how-I-broke-my-rib story.

      Delete
    2. What?! You're such a tease, Cat.

      Delete
  7. Catherine I'm sitting here with my mouth open, not sure whether to laugh or reach through the IPhone screen and try to "high-five" you.
    Good for you that you stood up to that uterus-insulting gentleman and I can't help but wonder what your son thought. Maybe something like, "you shouldn't mess with my momma!"
    Leslie (Gwen Moss)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Don't worry Gwen I hadn't picked him up yet. Now that they are older they try to discourage my rants. Well, maybe I rant less. I WISH I ranted less. Xcat

      Delete
  8. Driving with my uterus? No, but you signore, are obviously talking with your penis! Thinking with it, even. Too bad it's too small for a coherent thought, otherwise you'd know you'd best not mess with a redhead!

    I've never driven in Europe, and most of the populace is on their knees right now thanking God. I'm a fast driver, but I consider myself to be careful. My husband calls me aggressive and dangerous. But at least I don't talk on the cell phone or text. I just drive...fast. The only exception is when there are kids around, in which case I'm the slowest most careful woman in the queue. To husband and sons' chagrin I can parallel-park in one swing a suburban (read: tank) one-handed while I drink coffee with the other. I hate men who think their package makes them a better driver. That's never been my observation.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm a slowish driver, although it depends. I love mountain roads at dawn best. No traffic. I once had a boyfriend who told me I should drive faster. 'Ill teach you' he winked.

      It was over.

      Thanks for dropping by Fiona. I am loving those red locks!

      Delete
  9. I am in awe of you. I have never had the courage to voice my thoughts on others' driving stupidity, because I'm always terrified they'll have a baseball bat underneath their front seat.

    Those penis insults - BRILLIANT.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh but I've been chased. By a blonde with a wavering finger (when I stopped for jogger to cross and she honked me from behind and I put the finger out my window). And on the autostrada. And in town. Especially I am a little ratty car when mine is in the garage. They seem to love threatening a chick in a small car.

      I am so childish!

      Delete
  10. I would have asked if he was driving with his testicle (singular) then added the Italin "etto" ending to it meaning cute, little. Or, if you know how to say undescended testicle that might be even better.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh my goodness now you have me laughing! Thanks for the - giggle - comment! ciao cat

      Delete
  11. Oh, goodness. Don't even get me started about driving in Italy. My blood pressure ticks up with each second behind the wheel. That's why I live centrally, walk ten minutes to work, and walk just about everywhere else I need to go. I suppose I 'drive with my uterus', too, because on the occasions I'm forced to drive in Rome, I actually use those lovely blinker-inventions Italians don't seem to know exist, and stop for little old ladies crossing on the zebra stripes as angry motorists honk at me to simply run them over. Yes, walking keeps me much saner... : )

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Totally agree. To avoid Italian drivers, you need to avoid driving. Not possible for me at all. Oh, you'd also need to NEVER cross a road, an extremely dangerous venture. Maybe when I retire to Paris and become a little old bag lady I won't have to - I can hit them with my baguette from the footpath!

      Delete
  12. Hahaha! Love it - go Cat! Whether he was driving with the penis or not, he was likely thinking with it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Most certainly the case. We won't go near the perving factor over here. Oh no, we won't.

      Delete
  13. I like it. thank you for sharing blog post with us.
    pussy eating

    ReplyDelete