I went to the downtown library this morning. There was a book I wanted, and since they’ve set up a program where you can park in a garage for up to 2 hours for free, I figured why not.
First, either I misread or the library website doesn’t specify which parking garage it is. There are two in close proximity. I apparently chose the wrong one, something I didn’t realize until I asked the desk to validate my ticket. That’s fine, a lesson learned. Next time I go down there, I’ll know better.
So I pay my $1.50 for a freaking 35 minutes of parking. I hand little old man a dollar bill, a quarter and three dimes. That’s $1.55, right? I gave him that because I didn’t have a nickel and I didn’t want to scrounge on the floor of the car hunting for five pennies. Then fucking give me my nickel in return. Don’t try to convince me that I only gave you $1.50. Then don’t try to get me to leave by telling me that you don’t have any nickels. I’ll do just what I did and start scrounging for those pennies (no there was no one waiting behind me).
Fuck you little old man. And don’t call me “baby” and “sweetie” and “hun”. That’s only going to make me more irritated with you. And then the nasty look you gave me as I drove off, yeah, I saw it. You can kiss my pasty white butt cheeks if you don’t like people paying what they owe and actually gasp getting their change back.
Yes, I know someone will say “it’s only a nickel”. Yeah, well, I wasn’t intending to pay anything for parking when I went downtown, but I then I had to, and then to have him try to tell me that I didn’t give him what I knew I did. It just pissed me off.
