Wednesday, May 14, 2008

.were you just listening for me to pull up?.

So, C lives in an apartment building in, shall we say, not the nicest part of town. There is a police station around the corner, a Wal-Mart down the street, and I am pretty positive 6 people live in the 1-bedroom across the hall. Just across the parking lot, though, on the lower right hand side, lives a family that consists of at least a mother, a father, and a horny 12 year old boy. While it's nice to be hit on by a boy that probably wouldn't have talked to me when I was 12, I hadn't paid this family much mind until yesterday.

There happens to be a loading zone very near to their apartment door. It is, in fact, right next to their parking spot. On many occasions, I have parked there. It's a loading zone, after all, and I'm unloading myself and will, within the next few hours, or the next morning, be loading myself right back up. Recently, the apartment manager came to C's door and told him that I needed to move my car. I obliged, but I didn't hesitate to park there again...after all, it's a freaking loading zone, right?

Come yesterday, I'm returning from Happy Hour (and a very Happy hour it was, might I add) to pick C up to go see Baby Mama (loved it, probably would have peed myself laughing had it not been a public arena). I pull into the loading zone and lo-and-behold, Ms. "I live in a budget housing development with my blue collar husband and i'm bitter and angry at anyone who might possibly have the potential to move away from this spider filled dump" sticks her head out and says, "You can't park there," bold as can be. Immediately, I am struck. This is a loading zone. She doesn't own it. It doesn't have her apartment number (or anyone's apartment number, for that matter) painted on the curb. I respond, "I'll be in and out in a minute." She counters, "It's hard for me to get into my car when you're parked there." I give in with an , "Okay, sorry," get into my car, back up and then sit there in the middle of the parking lot, waiting for C to come out. Meanwhile, I'm fuming, because I'm thinking:

"HERE'S THE THING, SISTER.

I am not even going to touch on the fact that IF perhaps you WEREN'T MORBIDLY OBESE you would fit into the GENEROUS space left between your car and mine. I am not going to mention the fact that NO one, and I mean NO one parks in that loading zone besides me. I know, I monitored it for WEEKS before I decided to start parking there on occasion. What I cannot resist mentioning, though, is that if you deemed it necessary to PARK WITHIN THE LIMITS OF YOUR OWN GOD DAMN PARKING SPOT you would have more then the legal amount of room to fit your GARGANTUAN derrière into your flipping car! MOREOVER, HOW IS IT DIFFICULT FOR YOU TO GET INTO THE DRIVER'S SIDE WHEN MY CAR IS PARKED NEXT TO YOUR CAR'S PASSENGER SIDE?"

Needless to say, we are moving out in the end of June.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I think they must of pulled the chairs off Kai Breezes site, but they are also on www.cottageandbungalow.com

Thanks for stopping by my blog! :)