Saturday, July 23, 2011

Parking Lessons

Dear Ashley,

Since you did not leave any contact information (besides an adorable heart, which shows me how harmless and well-meaning you are), I can only post this on the internets and hope that it reaches you somehow. I know this means it may never reach you, since due to my husband’s ungodly parking job, you are most likely still driving around the city in 100 degree heat, searching desperately for a parking spot that suits you.

Maybe you can enlighten me: I'm not sure how I could be "taking two spaces" when the parking lot does not have “spaces.” It's a gravel wasteland with a lovely open dumpster in between. One parks where one can, generally away from the dumpster. I’m no rocket scientist, but basic physics will tell you that when cars leave, they leave a space that’s relative to their size, and that’s what is left for the next driver to work with. We parked as close to the adjacent car as we could; however, if you’re willing to fashion us some sort of mechanical pulley system for my car, perhaps we could park in a way that’s more to your convenience (Sideways? Generally up?). If you need my help, I’ve got some scotch tape and polyfill stuffing, and I can knit like a grandma on crack.

Putting aside the pesky semantics of a “space,” would you have left this note if I had a massive pickup that took up a lot of room? Like the one that happened to be parked right next to our car? Probably not. That truck has a gorgeous Confederate flag stretched across the back window, and stickers letting you know that the owner has a musket, and “these colors don’t run.” Perhaps out of fear and respect, you let that slide and moved on to a tiny hybrid that was clearly asking for trouble. If this is the case, I’d like to enlist your assistance. I’m considering getting some intimidating stickers for my car, and maybe you could help me pick out the ones that keep people like you away. I’m thinking something along the lines of “Original 40 MPG Gangsta,” “My Other Car DESTROYS the Environment,” or “Parks Like a Compact Motherfucker.” I’m totally open to brainstorming on this.

Regardless of our conflicting views on say, basic logic and how to interact with others, I wanted to thank you. You could have just as well left the note on any other car in that row, but you chose mine. I am honored that you decided that I was the one worthy of your teachings. I had never before considered how there are “alot” of cars and minimal parking. I myself have never had a problem finding a place to park in the lot in the year I’ve lived here, and if I did, I would just go back down to the street and grab one of the dozen spots that is always available there. I didn’t stop to consider people like you for whom the street just won’t cut it.

If you’d like, I can put out some traffic cones so that you can have the primo space downwind of the open-air dumpster. It’ll definitely mask the smell of whatever milk-based Starbucks drinks you’re always spilling all over the interior of your car and then bitching about on Facebook. You’ll also get to meet some really cool new bug species that will take up residence in your car. I’ll be vigilant about writing passive-aggressive smiley-face notes on any other car that dares to park there. We can make this work for you!

I also want to commend you on your problem-solving skills. By writing that note, you’ve cut to the heart of the “problem” (notice how I put the word problem in quotation marks? Let’s think about why I might have done that…) and ensured that you will always be able to find a place to park that is to your liking.

Please have a wonderful day as well, at least better than it was when you wrote that note,



  1. "I don't want to sound rude . . . because I'd rather BE rude."

    Also, I like this post alot.

  2. Her handwriting makes me wanna throw up for THE REST OF MY LIFE.

  3. Don't hate on the bubble-style exclamation point. It proves that she really, really wanted me to have a good morning. Really.