I had just traded in my car for a new vehicle. I still went for the same make. Although Daniels family was an all-American Ford family, I have driven Toyotas all my life. My car had died and it was time to get a new one. Towed to the dealership and I had to choose a new one.
Meeting me there was who else? Of course Daniel. That I would have expected. It seemed I couldn’t go anywhere without him in attendance anymore. The attention was flattering. Or so it seemed. I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know about psychopaths at the time.
He seemed like a kid in a candy shop at the car dealership. I already knew what I would be shopping for in a car. I always brought my copy of Consumer Reports with me. Yes, I am a geek at heart.
At this time in my life, I had owned almost every model Toyota put out on the market. Now that my children were grown, I was thinking of going back into a Celica again. There was a black 6-on-the-floor street model ready to go. I fell in love with it immediately. All I had to do was make the deal with the sales manager.
Without the interference of Sandra. However, she somehow had gotten wind of what happened and appeared at the dealership to put in her two cents. After all, her baby boy was buying a car. No, I was buying a car. But in her mind, her twisted mind, her son was at this foreign dealership being told that foreign cars were better than american cars by this woman who was taking over her son. So I am attempting to talk to the sales manager and haggling over prices, etc. She begins to interfere.
At this point, I never realized that her son had called her to tell her that I was going to buy a new car, my car was in the process of being towed to a dealership and he needed Mommy to direct him in his next move. She rushed to Toyota to take over.
Now, if you’ve read any earlier posts, you already know Sandra is diagnosed with a narcissistic, histrionic personality disorder. It is painful for her to watch me (in her mind) get attention at the dealership purchasing a vehicle. But I have to buy a car. My car had just expired. Died. It was a goner. But that didn’t matter to her. All she could see was that the woman who her son was interested in was taking her son’s attention away from her. And taking attention away from her was something that Sandra didn’t like or enjoy.
Picture this: I am talking about cars that I can afford with the manager. We are haggling about prices. We are talking Toyotas amiably. This woman walks up to the two of us, (Daniel as I said was like a kid in a candy store looking at cars and the celica), and says, “What car does she want?!” Quite loud, I might add.
I turn. He turns. We look at each other. We don’t know what to say, because we’re in the middle of a financial discussion. “Well? What car???” Sandra continues. Now others in the showroom are starting to look because she is making a show of herself. The sales manager points weakly to the celica and to an suv. He mentions the price of the celica, excusing the higher price because it is a “gold package”.
Now Sandra is about 20 some years older than I am. Not an imposing woman by any means, she is about 6 inches shorter than I, and then, probably weighed in at about 30 pounds heavier than I did. She had started to copy my hair style along with my hair color and way of dressing.
“SOLD!” she exclaims. Loudly. Very loudly. I roll my eyes. Daniel runs over to his Mother. I look at the sales manager and say, “I don’t know what she’s talking about.” Sandra begins to talk rather excitedly and loudly and tells me that if I don’t buy that car now she will make more of a ruckus in the showroom that she is making right then. I tell her how expensive it is. She says it’s no big deal, she’ll foot the rest of the bill. And she and her son and the car sales rep go off to the desks, leaving me standing there.
So now I own this gold-package, 6-on-the-floor, all-black inside and out, street version celica. Daniel’s happy. His Mommy bought a car for me, so to speak. Not really. I bought the car and she kicked in some extra. She kicked in a lot of bull in the showroom that caused so many people to stop and stare I was dumbfounded. Daniel didn’t even know how to drive a stick, that was the funny part.
So the day goes on, and I’m driving around in my new car. It’s now nighttime. Daniel and I stop at a friend’s tattoo parlor to show them my new car. I parallel park the car. Not an easy job on a city street with a 6-speed stick. But I do it. I was taught to drive on a 3-speed stick by my older brother. On a hill no less. Here comes the red flag. (As if there weren’t some already in this story.)
Daniel had already left the vehicle and was watching me park. He had gone into the ink parlor to get my friends. (My friends that owned the shop, that he now claimed as his friends.) They were watching me park the car. As I put it into park and shut the motor off, the vehicle rolled forward a bit. Remember I said it was on a hill? The front bumper rolled gently into the curb ahead and hit. It also hit the bumper of the car ahead. No marks, nothing. This is the city. I had my foot on the brake, anticipating this to happen, with the wheels turned sideways into the curb.
Daniel starts to scream. I mean SCREAM. Rant and rave scream. It’s 11 p.m. at night. The neighborhood is quiet. People live in this neighborhood. My friends are trying to calm him down. They’ve never seen him react this way. They tell him, there’s no damage, calm down. He won’t calm down. He continues to yell, very loudly, so loudly that the man who owned the car ahead of me from across the street comes out of his home.
This man comes across the street. Daniel is yelling at me now, calling me names and telling the man I hit his car. My friends are aghast. There is not one mark. The man looks at his car. He asks where? Daniels is pointing. The man finally tells Daniel to calm down and get a grip. He looks at me and asks if Daniel’s on drugs or drunk. The friend’s explain that it’s a new car and Daniel’s just nervous. I’m very angry at this point.
Not embarrassed. Horrified, yes. Angry, yes. Frustrated, yes. embarrassed in front of my friends, yes. Wondering what the hell is wrong with Daniel, yes. For the first time, he went off on me in front of people for nothing at all. In front of my friends, in front of strangers. People had to calm him down and I had to bring him home.
I was frustrated, not knowing what the hell had happened. As so many women say, it was similar to a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality. Who was this man? Who was this man who had just turned on me? How dare he treat me in this fashion? This was not just a simple argument. This was a lashing out at me. With no provocation. This was a huge red flag that I should have seen. But, unfortunately, I didn’t. I did see it at the time, but didn’t understand it fully.
I was one of those women that wondered if this was a bi-polar reaction? Was this a childish reaction to a purchase made by his mother? Did he think his/my new toy was damaged? Even though he couldn’t drive it? What was wrong with him? I was utterly, completely taken aback and confused.
By the time we returned home, he was calmer. I was not. He exited the vehicle, looked at it again, realized nothing was wrong with it and actually started giggling. Then he acted as if nothing happened and went about his merry way into the house. I sat there in the car fuming. I was still angry at his behavior. To me, he was ignoring what had just happened. There’s your red flag.
The huge outburst at the significant other that the psychopath is courting. The violent outburst where he blames her for an act that has not been committed in front of her friends. He attempts to embarrass and humiliate her.The psychopath sets his victim up for a fall. He attempts to chisel away at her self-esteem. No one can seem to calm him down. When they leave and are away from the others, he does calm down on his own, and ignores what just happened. Without an apology, he continues on without mention of what his behavior just caused. Leaving the victim wondering, frustrated, confused, perhaps frightened. In my case, I was angry.
Daniel caused a bizarre scene in front of my friends, in front of strangers, designed to humiliate me. These were people that were former business associates of mine. Some of them were my former employees. Some were business owners themselves. The people that came out of their homes to witness the fracas I did not know.
Daniel was testing the waters. He was testing me. Gauging my reaction in front of my friends to see what would happen if he would attempt to humiliate me. My friends rallied around me and tried to calm him down. One in particular asked if I was ok. The next day I received a phone call at work questioning me about him. I passed it off. Stupidly, I passed it off.
Psychopaths can be so convincing. That is very frightening. That is your red flag.
- Survivor Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Should I Have Allowed Him To Die?) (sorceressofthedark.wordpress.com)
- Survivor Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Red Flags To Look For…) (sorceressofthedark.wordpress.com)
All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License