Insubordiknit

Holiday parking avenger!

So, I've got some rage. Apparantly. And I can be confrontational. Can be? Well, I am confrontational, but only when I see wrongedness. I'd like to say I'm confrontational in the face of injustice so I sound all noble, but sometimes the face of my confrontation takes the noble right the hell out. The face is petty. Sometimes.

That said, can we talk about holiday parking?

And you know where this is going right? Nowhere good. Injustice. Confrontation. Rage. Pettiness.

The Little Bit and I needed cereal and dried fruit, and nowhere's better than Trader Joe's, so off we go. All smiles. We get there and it's super packed. Not a parking spot to be seen. None. Not even way out under ramp where it smells like pee and nobody's sure it's legal but ya chance it anyway because you need your dried mango. So we circle, like everyone else. Then I see a space, I'm the only one around to watch the woman right in front of me (I'm about to turn the corner so her spot is directly in front of me) loading in her groceries. So as not to block the people that will surely come to circle soon, I 3 point turn it, and am no more than half a car length behind her, with my turn signal on. It takes her a good 3-5 minutes because she's got a little one to load in too. So a car pulls up to where I used to be, the turn. They look over at me. They are older and pinched of face. They are driving a new lexus and she has on big gold hoop earrings and red lipstick. I think they must be waiting to see where that lady (another one) is walking (you probably already know that they aren't).

The woman has gotten into her car, she backs out, gives me a wave and drives off. I start to pull in but...you guessed it...the pinched-faces swoop in. I honk before they get fully in the spot. The woman looks over at me and shrugs. She shrugs.

I hop outta my '81 volvo, trot over in my thrift store coat and rap on the passenger window. I explain in a calm voice that we'd been waiting for that spot for quite some time...They began getting out of the car, not acknowledging me and I continue to explain, then request, then demand. The man, in his suit and shiny shoes actually stopped, looked me up and down, turned and looked at my car and visibly and audibly humphed. Humphed. I was dumbfounded. Dumbfounded while they walked right into Trader Joe's. I could hardly breathe, my rage switch had been kicked the hell on. I yelled after them your seriously gonna leave me out here with your car? In that moment I became the crazy holiday driver, but I had justice and truth on my side, right? I wanted to ram my old volvo right up the trunk of their Lexus. Wanted to, but didn't. I went a different route. Yep, I got back into my car, pulled up lengthwise behind them, blocking them. And parked.

After a long and leisurely stroll through Trader Joe's, and I mean we spent time reading all the labels, sampling all the applicable treats, talking to all the employees. Smiling at them when they accidently came in the same isle as us. We lingered. We spent time. After, we meandered out to our illegally parked car and with those pinch-faced people sitting in their car waiting, we loaded our groceries, rebuked the parking lot depository right next to us and walked our cart back into the store, got into the car, opened a bag of dried mango for the ride, settled in, and drove off. They sat, said nothing, and waited.

I am the holiday parking avenger! Don't fuck wit me, I'll bring da hamma down hard.

Posted by jacey at December 27, 2005 12:58 PM