Since moving to Indiana, everyone I have encountered has been extremely friendly. Like incredibly friendly. The kind of friendly where neighbors bring you baked goods when you move in, and the guy who bags your groceries helps you out to the car, and instead of giving out candy during parades they give out gigantic stuffed animals.
So imagine my surprise when I finally encountered someone who was, let’s just say, not so friendly. A few weeks ago, when it was the bitter cold of winter and there was snow everywhere, (remember that?) we found out our neighbors across the street were moving out. Now, when we moved in, we got the scoop about everyone on the block. We were told they weren’t the friendliest people, but they were harmless. We got their backstory, baby mama drama and all, but they never bothered anyone so life went on.
That is, until they moved out and their daughter moved in. It’s a single family home that was converted by the mom into a double block so the daughter had her own apartment. When the daughter found out she’d have to pay rent, she left. Until now.
Mom and family were moving out of the right side of the house, and apparently daughter moved into the left. This seriously isn’t any of my business, but being a stay at home mom has given me a bit of a “Rear Window” complex, except in my case it’s more of a large front bay window.
Back to the snow. It had recently snowed just under a foot, requiring us to shovel a spot in front of our house where we can park. Since we originally hail from NEPA, we brought along our snow blower, making life a little easier, and being in Friendly-ana, we even did our next door neighbor’s sidewalks.
Cue the weekend. Suddenly, a red Dodge Neon, with Ohio plates, is parked in front of our house. Thursday, Friday, Saturday. The car just sits there, nice and cozy, in the spot WE shoveled out. That Sunday, our next door neighbor, with cupcakes in hand, comes over to tell us about the car. Apparently, the daughter has lived here before, and was known for causing trouble.
Someone parking in my freshly shoveled spot, while annoying, isn’t necessarily trouble. But I did have to park my own car up the street and figure out a way to trudge my two babies back to the house in a few inches of snow. So it was mildly inconvenient.
By Monday morning, it was more than inconvenient. It had gone on too long, and I was now past the point of being friendly. Besides, the car hadn’t moved so I didn’t even see the owner. While Googling “passive aggressive parking notes”, the daughter goes to her car. Now’s my chance.
…to be continued…
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