The Sultan of 9th Avenue

I see you standing there...

I saw you walking towards Betty and me when we pulled up.

Just standing there, waiting. waiting for me to get out of my car....

You don't look friendly. I don't think you want to chat about the weather, the current situation with the taliban in Pakistan, or the craigslist murderer.... let alone welcome me to the neighborhood. I feel like you want to give me a piece of your fat little mind.

As you waddle up to the curb, I try to decide if I'm going to say what I want to say, or if I'll be nice. I pretend to not see you, but I see you.... You and your gaudy golden jewelry, horrible flowery outfit, flowing... stupid.... shirt, and fat woman pants. You're wearing far too much makeup, and it's not helping. You're not 18 anymore, though you seem to be trying to appear that way... and as soon as you open your mouth, I realize that you have certainly not matured past that numeric age. Well, your mind hasn't, but, much to your dismay - and against your best efforts, your body has. Now, no, you're not old, not by any stretch. you're just not young... and you need to act your age.

"Um, are you staying here permanently, or just temporarily?"

AAHHHHHHHHH! I knew it.... this friggin' pageant mom is going to pull squatters on the street parking.

"Excuse me?" I say, trying to hide my fury. (Betty begs, "Unleash the fury, Mitch... i mean, Chris")

Actually, it was the air-ride equalling out after i stepped out of the car. If I had looked at the dash a green light would have been on, stating that the "Car is Leveling." From the outside, it sounds like a growl. and, it was, in my mind, Betty demonstrating her displeasure at the Jaba-the-Hut impersonator inconveniencing us.

"Well, do you live here, or are you just visiting?" She tried to clarify.

"Oh, I'm living right there across the street." I say, pointing at the big, old house, directly across the city street. It's a pretty house, a sage green, huge...over 4000 square feet. The guy I'm renting from now is fixing it up inside and out. It seems that many of the people on the street have done the same. It's a nice neighborhood. It's sort of analogous to a neighborhood in uptown minneapolis, for those familiar. and, maybe some SE hood in Portland. There are nice, big old homes, sidewalks, and wide streets. These streets are where everyone parks their cars, as the homes don't have driveways. It's not metered, or signed with "2 hour parking" or anything of that nature. It's welcoming, sign free, and fee free.

Like I said, it's a nice hood, except for this one troll.

"Well, see, I'm a homeowner... (good for you, turd) and I live right there" as she points to the house nearest Betty from which she emerged, "aahhhhh, I like to have this place to park, because well, you know, ah, i get groceries... and it's, ah, easier to carry them from here."

I look up, down, and across the street... there are spots EVERYWHERE within a spitting distance. The only reason I parked right HERE is that i was traveling this direction down the street as I returned from work, and it was the closest open spot, without turning around, to my place.

While I stare in amazement, she continues, "and I have an 18 year old daughter, and she gets home at night, and, ah, it's easier for her to park right here..." (I'm sorry your adult daughter is either mentally or physically impaired so terribly that she cannot park anywhere but directly in front of your house at night) "It's just easier for her."

Yea, like it was easier for me to park there.

"So, could you move?"

I'm fuming. The audacity of this lady! Who made you Sultan of the street? It's one thing if it's suburbia, where driveways abound, and there's only the occasional car on the street... then i can understand someone's request to not park in front of their place. but HERE? this is a city street, where the only place to park IS the street. it's fair game, Jaba.

I contain my anger. This is a silly, nothing, of an incident. It's nothing to get upset about. So, I act cordial, neighborly, and say, "Of course, no problem."

Furious... but you'd never know it.

Except for the guy who happened to be walking his dog up the street as I was getting a lecture on how and where to park. He heard the whole thing, and as I unlocked Betty and was about to hop back in I turn and make eye contact with him...

I give him this look as i roll my eyes and raise my brow....

he laughs, shrugs and says "What are ya gunna do?"

It made me feel better; at least he too thought this woman was out of line in her request.

I figure, I relented once, that's good enough. If it's easier for me to park there from now on, I will. Her only reasoning was that she 'gets groceries' and she's got a parking challenged daughter. I figure, her grand prix daughter has to learn sometime, and this woman couldn't possibly be getting groceries every day...

or wait... nevermind.

regardless, I'm still parking there. now, it's just out of spite.