It’s confession time.
Last December, I’m cruising around the parking lot and finally find a space that in addition to being unoccupied, is rather close to the building I wish to enter.
The problem is that the car to the left is not just hugging the white line but is over by a good eight inches or so.
No prob for me. I squeeze my little green car in, scooching my car a little to the right, turn the car off and then discover that I can’t get out. Now I’m a relatively thin person but there was no way I could exit my automobile.
I start the car up again, try to re-position but then realize that if I park any further to the right, the person to the right of me won’t be able to get into to her/his car at all.
Thus, I back up, find another parking space -further away of course and then figure I have to do SOME thing.
I take out some paper and write “Nice parking job, asshole. Merry Fucking Christmas” and place the note under the windshield wiper of the person who started this whole mess, and went about my business.
Days later, I got to thinking, did I really have to write the note? There are enough random acts of spite to last us to the next millennium, why add to it? Granted I didn’t lose any sleep or anything but… ah well, what are you going to do?