YOU Learn How to Park: Part 2

Speaking of notes on a car Rosemary, I have to tell you that I come home every night and in my already too skinny of an alley try and pull into my parking space without dinging my car. Any passer-byer would think that Austin Powers himself had taught me how to park. Yes, they automatically would think that I had no clue what I was doing. I am almost positive that they would lay LESS THAN ZERO blame on the BIG FAT WHITE TRUCK that makes a spot by parallel parking behind my spot, much less even notice it or the street parking permit it has hanging from the rear view mirror.

Well not me, this truck has been paralleling in the alley behind my spot for a while now with their street parking permit just dangling in my face! So last Sunday after a long Halloween night out, I had had enough! I squeezed my car from the alley into the garage almost hitting the truck, the wall, the trash can...everything, you name it, and decided to do something about it. I took out a receipt I had on the floor of my car and scribbled in black (not red and certainly in not any type of girly scrip) the following:

"Please go park in the street. I cannot get my car in and out of my parking spot with you here. Thank you."

AND most importantly signed my name and phone number. I was certainly not going to be a coward! One could say I was a bit cowardly in the sense that what I really wanted to say was:

"Stupid Truck go park in the street where you belong. Or in Texas for all I care. You already have a two car garage filled with CRAP. So stop taking up more than your fair share and park where you're supposed to Ass $#&@"

While I didn't get a response or a phone call, I did get the truck to move for a couple of days at least. It hasn't been there so we'll see how long it lasts. My next note won't be so nice. maybe something along the lines of:

"You belong in Texas with squiggly writing girl friend on the 8th floor of Roesmary's parking garage. Beat it!"

xoxo
Babs