One winter, when I was still living in an
apartment complex, there was a really big snowstorm. I don’t remember the exact number of inches but after the
snowplow came through it didn’t really matter.
The plow operator pushed the snow as close to our cars as possible so as
to make the widest lane. However, this
caused a problem vis-ŕ-vis the ability of anyone to get a car out of a parking
spot before May.
Luckily for me – unlike many of my neighbors –
I had a show shovel. It is so pathetic
to watch people trying to dig their car out of a mound of snow using a
dustpan. Particularly if that person is
over 70. Now, what I’d like to
say here is that I dug all of the old people’s cars out of the snow. Nope.
However, I never ever once complained to anyone, or even got upset, if
the spot I cleared out for myself was taken by someone who was legitimately
unable to clear their own spot.
Anyway, my wife and I cleared both of our
spots that morning and went to work. I
wasn’t so naďve as to think my spot would still be there when I returned – but
I wasn’t prepared for what did happen.
In a way, I wish an old dude had just taken my space. If that had happened, I would have dug
myself a new parking spot without seething anger. Instead what happened was that I pulled up and saw an unfamiliar
car in my spot.
I become angry.
I drive past my spot towards the end of the
parking lot looking for an open spot.
Yeah right.
I get out of my car in my dress clothes. I slip in snow. I get more angry. I get
the shovel out of my trunk and I clear a new fucking parking spot because
there’s absolutely nowhere else to put the car.
It was a real pain in the ass, but I got the
car parked and headed into the apartment building. Then, one of my neighbors came out on his balcony and yelled “Hey
man! Did you see that dude that took
your spot?!?! I can’t believe it – he
lives like two buildings down!! He was
a young dude too!”
Thanks.
I turn and look at the car in the spot I dug
out that morning. I already knew I
didn’t recognize it. Now I knew I hated
it. It must die.
Rather quickly I decided on a plan. It seemed perfectly reasonable to me at the
time. Any plan that is “revenge” sounds
totally reasonable at some point I suppose.
I would let the air out of that car’s tires. Ha Ha. Try and drive NOW
fucker!!!
I went inside, changed, and grabbed a handful
of toothpicks. The toothpicks were to
be broken up and shoved in the valve stems of the car’s tires. When I went back out to the car and actually
put the toothpicks in the valves I felt like a total dick. There was no way I could go through with it
I felt like a real asshole for even
considering doing such a thing much less starting to do it. But really, that guy needed to pay.
I stood there a few minutes staring at that
fucking car – and it came to me. Of
course.
I walked to my own car and got my trusty - and
recently used – snow shovel. Then, I
began shoveling as much snow as I could under that fucker’s car. When I couldn’t get more snow under it, I
piled it right behind. I threw snow on
both sides a bit, but there were other cars and I couldn’t go too far.
This is how I look at it. It would have been unfair to disable his
car, but I think it was ok to “strand” it by basically forcing the owner to go
through the same amount of work I had to go through to carve a “replacement”
space.
In any event, you would have to ask yourself
how YOUR car can be the only one in the parking lot plowed in. When that guy got back to his car he would
have to question how he could possibly be snowed in having pulled into a
cleared spot just the night before.
I had hoped to see the guy but I never
did. When I left the next morning his
car was already gone. The mound of snow I piled behind the car was still there
and it bore the deep imprint of the car’s undercarriage!
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