Friday, August 28, 2015


I'm pretty sure I have road rage, or maybe just parking rage? Or just a low tolerance for idiots. All I know is that I can't stand traffic jams that seem to occur for no apparent reason, pedestrians who leisurely stroll through a cross walk just daring you to hit them, and I hate people who double park, take up two spaces, or just can't  park worth a damn at all. And let me tell you, by the time I get to a parking space after sitting in rush hour traffic, I am more than ready to be out of my car! So with that said, here's my asshole story of the week, starring me as the Asshole (yep, Mom would be proud!) 

I arrive to my neighborhood and despite having a garage space for parking, I see that a car parked in front of my building is leaving. I excitedly pull ahead of the car, signal that I will be turning (backing) into the space once it's vacated, and wait for the driver to leave. In the mean time, I've already noticed the jerk-car who is double parked across from the spot I want to get in to. As I am attempting to back into the spot, I realize I can't swing my car wide enough to park, because the jerk-car who is double parked is taking up too much street space. So, without a thought in my head, I roll down my window and to no distinct person yell, "Move your effing car!". Only I didn't say the word "effing", I said the real "F" word. You know, my second favorite "F" word. And it wasn't the word Friday.

Now, don't ask me why I said what I said, or what I hoped to accomplish. I just wanted to effing park and be on my way. Because I intended no direct audience to my comment, I was s
urprised to hear any kind of retort.

"You could have asked nicely for me to move my car", a voice said. And he was right. I sure could have, and
should have. But now, head first into the rabbit hole of parking angst, my logic is out the window and I feel I have to defend my initial comment and play hardball. So I logically reply, "You shouldn't be parked there! You're parked illegally!" which only helps to negatively escalate the conversation.

I hear chatter amongst the jerk-parker and his friend that they shouldn't have to deal with people like me, followed up by a much louder comment of, "You should learn how to park!". Really? They're referring to my parking skills? Now, I'm pissed. Remember, before I was just being stubborn and stupid, but now I'm actually beyond aggravated because I can park perfectly fine when there isn't some Euro-trash dip-shit illegally parked in my way. My reply? "YOU should learn to park, you're the one who is parked illegally!". 

The "conversation" continues, and all I can say is my half does not improve. There was talk of him "letting" me have the space, and me dutifully saying that he didn't "let" me have anything! The much more colorful-than-described here conversation continued and as I finished parking, I assumed my car would be keyed or have flat tires by the time I returned to it.

So yeah. Did you ever just have one of those days, where in an instant you knew you were wrong and just couldn't give up the fight? I knew I should have immediately apologized for the initial dart I threw about the "effing" parking, but something inside of me just wouldn't allow for it. Somehow, somewhere in my head, I had to win this battle. And for what? A moment of pride? A moment of stupidity? A moment of self-endangerment? Thankfully the conversation and actions did not escalate to anything worse than a few tense moments and my car remained damage free. I'm sure if it hasn't already, karma will come back to bite me in the a$$ on this one. Happy weekend my friends.

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