Judging…My Painful Relative
Posted by Don't Believe a Word I Write on July 25, 2008
My relative phoned me at work a few minutes ago sounding marginally more frantic than usual. The cause of the hysteria was a notice warning of a “new hijacking scheme” doing the rounds, which she kindly insisted on faxing to me. She ordered me to stand by my fax machine in order to await delivery of this sacred document, and promptly hung up (I feel palpable relief when I no longer have to speak to her)
Out pops the following:
“Don’t flash headlights at any car with no lights on!!
If you are driving after dark and see an on-coming car with no headlights on, DO NOT FLASH YOUR LIGHTS AT THEM! This is a common Bloods member “initiation game” that goes like this:”
Blah blah….flash lights at target….chase car….blah blah…. shoot and kill people in first car….hunna hunna…don’t flash lights.
I think I first heard about this alleged gang initiation rite about six years ago. Could be seven, possibly even eight. But today my relative got hold of this for the first time, and allowed it fuel her fear (and my aggravation levels) to uncharted readings.
However, I cannot blame my relative entirely for my extreme irritation:
– *I* gave her my work telephone number, thereby allowing her to bypass the wondrousness of cellphone caller ID
– *I* did not tell her that I have seen this warning about 3 zillion times before
– *I* did not pretend to be in the middle of something vital when she called
– *I* have not changed my name, address and telephone numbers in order to avoid her tracking me down.
Therefore, I judge myself in this regard.
Judge it 
Golden Beagle said
Ha ha ha – look, the giving of your work telephone number *was* admittedly a fatal error! You are going to pay for that lapse in judgement my buddy! But I wouldn’t judge yourself too harshly.
I still maintain there is a study to be done on the use of modern “horror stories” (such as the flashing lights story) as an integral part of female-to-female bonding, through the continous reminding of women (by other women) of how vulernable they are to rape/ attack/ murder. I see these stories passed on with an enthusiasm and vicarious shock amongst the women in my office that I don’t see to the same degree in men…
Don't believe a word I write said
G.B, I suspect you know to which painful relative I’m referring. I think this individual would have hunted me down and talked at me for three hours straight until I relented. 😉
It’s a very interesting idea that women bond through horror stories. I think you might be right. Though when my mother starts with these on occasion, I find myself either telling her to shut up or I walk away. What a strange way to show solidarity with one another.
Charmskool said
I have a relative who emails me all these horror stories and actually forgets how many times they have already sent these old chestnuts. I reply with a polite email with the link to Snopes and point out that the horror story is in fact a hoax. They then email me back to say that it’s not a hoax their colleagues’ sister’s cousin’s aunt’s boyfriends maid had it happen to them.
I reply “Thanks for the kind warning” – my days are never without opportunity for irony.
Don't believe a word I write said
Maybe we should hype up our relatives further, and tell them things like “when you see that your garage doors are closed, your dog is happy and alert, and everything looks normal, it actually means the criminals have just arranged everything to look as normal as possible.”
Vendetta said
The glorious bonding over horror stories… The mentality being, the more we shock each other, the more of a blithering wreck we become, the more wine we can drink at “book club” for compensation.
Don't believe a word I write said
ah, so THAT’S the rationale, eh?
Oh yes, I am a fan of “book club”, or “wine club” as I like to call it.
Vendetta said
Or the absinthe, tequila and jaeger club, as i like to call it (: