So the other day, I parked my car on the street in front of the building in which I reside, and as I'm unloading stuff, my next-door neighbor lumbers toward me. We haven't actually been formally introduced; but I recognized him, and I was all smiles and, "Hi," expecting him to say something like, "Say, you didn't happen to notice any..." or, "By any chance do you have a..." or better still, "Would you like a box full of..."
But no.
He says, "You know, you can only park here for 72 hours."
I responded, "What?"
"You can only park on the street for 72 hours. They'll chalk your tire and tow you away."
"Um, I live here," I said, kind of annoyed, gesturing toward the nearest building. "That's why I park here."
After a pause he said, "Well, you can only park on the street for 72 hours."
"OK, great, thanks," I retorted in the most dismissive possible way as I turned my back on him and reached into the car for another box. When I surfaced, he was still standing there.
He continued, "There was that time when you were parked in that spot for two weeks." He gestured toward a spot in which sat his giant stretch truck/SUV/whatever-the-crap with the Jesus fish stuck right next to the Anaheim Angels' haloed "A." It was pretty obvious to me that he wanted exclusive rights to park in this prized spot, which was right in front of his house, and right next to his driveway.
I gave my best are-you-really-wasting-my-time-with-this-crap look, and said, "Two weeks? I don't really know what you're talking about, but since I live right here it only makes sense that I'd park here." I have this problem where, when someone's being an ass, I'm almost invariably way too nice about it, and I was trying not to fall into the too-nice trap, but I may have done it anyway because deep down, I'm a pushover. -And a bit of a fraidy-cat.
Then he says, "OK, you know, I was just wondering whose car it was," and I just continued unloading my car and didn't say anything and finally he left.
You know, I just don't like being strong-armed by anyone, especially a lumbering dumbass with a Jesus fish and a haloed "A" on his giant vehicle.
So I decided that he'll never park in his prized spot again. Here's what I'm doing: I get home before him in the evenings. I'm parking in his prized spot for three days, THEN I'm moving the car one spot back for the next three days , BUT I'm only leaving enough room in front for a normal-sized car, NOT his giant truck thing. If he tried to park there, he'd block his own driveway. And get towed.
So three days in the one spot, three days in the other. Rinse and repeat. It's been going on for two weeks now. I usually drive my other car anyway.
Eff with ME, mother effer?
I don't give an eff.
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2 comments:
Tut-tut.
Ding ding ding ding.
Hi, Coco.
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