I’ve been trying to avoid writing negative things because the energy it gives me is so bad.
I honestly got exhausted writing Part One that I had to stop, have a massage, and take a nap.
But I felt like I had to write it because what I went through was so painful, to think that I stressed about it for only a week. What more the actual victim who could be suffering up to now?
I prepared myself for a phone call with Nilo’s boss, hoping to gain his trust that I would pay the medical bills of Nilo and that he would allow Nilo to sign the waiver so that my driver could go home and not be detained at the precinct.
It was nearing midnight when I got the dreaded call. I used my chirpy, friendly voice. “Good evening po. My name is Cecile. I’m the cousin of R (his Facebook friend) and the friend of Yvette Fernandez….”
I thought that mentioning his Facebook friends’ names would give us something in common. Perhaps he could ask them about me and they could vouch for my character.
The boss immediately answered on the defense: “Look I don’t care who your cousin is or if you’re friends with Yvette.”
He was fuming mad and went on a tirade about how Nilo, whom he considers his family and has been his right hand for 17 years, and whose foot is ruined, may never walk again, etc. etc.
He wouldn’t let me have a word in. So I let him talk. But I wanted to say, please calm down.
He went on and on, I even put the phone down on the table because he was yelling at me.
I wanted to say, look, I wasn’t even there. I just want to help. My driver needs to go home. I’m afraid the cops will hurt my driver. It was an accident. Nilo was jaywalking with a phone on his ear…. I just need Nilo to sign the waiver so that my driver can go home.
But he wouldn’t let me speak. So finally when there was a pause, I told him in an exasperated tone because I was about to cry, “Look, I just want to pay for it!!”
And that’s when he lost it. “Excuse me???? Do you think this is all about money and you can just pay for it and that’s it??? THIS IS ABOUT MY SOMEONE WHO IS FAMILY TO ME AND HIS FOOT WAS SHATTERED IN PIECES AND I DON’T REALLY CARE IF YOUR DRIVER SPENDS THE NIGHT IN JAIL!!”
He went on: “Just because the money means nothing to you or me.”
“It means something to me,” I said.
Then he said, “Do you think I’m being rude to you?”
“How am I being rude to you???”
“Just the way you’re talking, your tone of voice. You are being rude. I meant no harm. I just want to help.”
Click. I couldn’t take it anymore. I put the phone down, shocked by his behavior.
I was shaking. It was midnight and I didn’t know what to do.
I got another call from our driver. The cops would let him go home if they leave the BMW at the precinct. But our driver refused.
I talked to my lawyer cousin who talked to my driver, who humbly said he was fine spending the night at the precinct and I should go to bed.
I later texted the boss I’m sorry for hanging up, and decided to let the lawyer handle it.
After that, I blocked his number because I refuse to be treated that way again.
In the morning my lawyer cousin would go to the hospital and talk to Nilo and his boss.
(To be continued)