Parking Whores. Oops! I Meant Wars.
Continued from A Spot in the Park:
I go outside and step onto my porch. I politely greet her and then it hits me. A hailstorm of attitude like none I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve worked in customer service!
“Hi. Can I just ask for a small favor?” I ask. She replies with a dumbfounded stare. Maybe I wasn’t speaking loud enough. Or maybe my Eastern accent has her thrown off guard.
“Could you just move your car back a little bit,” I continue. “I have two small kids, and with the snow it was just hard to take them out this weekend.”
“There’s a driveway there. I can’t back up.” Now it’s my turn in the dumbfounded staring contest. I guess she really didn’t understand that she could park behind the driveway. I pointed out that the house next to me is vacant, and she wouldn’t be in anyone’s way if she parked there, just a few feet behind where she currently parked. She continued staring at me. Nothing was getting through whatever is behind those dumbfounded eyes, so I thanked her, and retreated to my porch.
I heard her mumble something under her breath, so I turned back around. “I’m sorry, I thought we were done,” I said. “Apparently, you have more to say?” I caught her off guard. “I was on the porch and didn’t hear you. What did you say?”
“I said it’s public parking.” She mumbled.
“Really? This is how you want to start out as neighbors?”
“I’m the biggest bitch you’ll ever meet,” she yells. Because that’s an appropriate response when someone asks you to move your car.
Knowing that my daughter was at the door, and everything I do sets an example for her, I quieted the voice in my head telling me to punch the lady in the face.
“Just a fair warning,” I told her, “I’m the nice one of this house. You’re just lucky my husband wasn’t here.” Anyone who knows us will verify the accuracy of that statement.
So she gets in her car, I go in my house, and life goes on. Since that moment, we haven’t had any contact with each other. However, I have noticed that she refuses to park in front of her own house, which makes me wonder if there’s some kind of invisible parking barrier there. When she attempts to pull forward, the little Neon bounces back. I’d walk over there to inspect it, but there’s only one thing stopping me…
…to be continued…(again)…