Today went pretty damn well, I must say. Work passed by fairly quickly, and I got everything in order and organized in preparation for inventory tomorrow. And then I got in my car to head home from work and a blood vessel must've popped inside my head. I'm walking to my truck in the parking lot when I notice that the car next to my driver's side door is a little too close for comfort. I'm a fan of leaving a reasonable amount of space if at all possible when it comes to parking, but I was able to squeeze into my truck alright. My biggest concern was that there may have been a scratch on the door, but I checked and there was nothing there. Awesome.
As I'm pulling out of the spot, I realize, that the car on the passenger side of my car is WAY to fucking close for comfort. What the hell? We have huge-ass parking spaces at work, and there are always about 500 free spots. Their front drivers side tire was over the line and on my side, and they were parked with a slight angle, as opposed to straight on. So, I pull out, and park in the spot right behind where I am. I wanted to check the body of my truck, yeah, because I'm anal about these things. Granted, my vehicle isn't anything special, but it's body is pretty well taken care of. I own a 2000 Nissan Frontier. A quick spray with a hose, and it looks brand new.
So I walk over to the passenger side, and what do you suspect I see? That's right. A 5 inch mother-fuckin' vertical gray/white gouge has graced it's presence upon my passenger side door. Right in the middle of it.
::pop::
I look up at the car that parked next to me. A new Impala. Gray in color. And all I could do was stare at it. People don't know how to fucking drive, and it pisses me off sometimes. I was once tailed, inches, all the way up the hill to get to work, and she honked at me multiple times. It's a very dangerous road to drive on, for it only being a 5-mile, 2-lane road. Well, turns out she worked at Barona. I saw her name badge, took her license plate, and checked for an employee sticker. She hadn't registered her car with security yet, but man alive, she drove like a madwoman. I guess because she was partially late, but still... there's at least one death a month on that stretch of road. A couple of them a year are always fellow employees. I don't like the fact knowing there's a 1 in 3500 chance I could die going to work.
But yes, we're talking about parking. What do I do? I considered parking again, sliding over to the passenger side, and slamming my door into their car a few times, good and hard. I considered walking over there and snapping a key off into one of their locks. I considered just flat out keying it. I considered getting a polaroid camera and taking a few pictures and leaving them on their windshield with a note. I considered leaving a note. I considered trying to go through security to get the surveillance tape. And I just kept staring at the car.... my God, I'm so incredibly uptight sometimes. I forced myself to just get into my automobile and drive away. And all I wanted to do was turn around and park right next to them, and just wait for them to get off of work so I could calmly, but straightfowardly point out the ways of their err, but more importantly, how they could make it better again.
I have inner-rage issues.
As I'm pulling out of the spot, I realize, that the car on the passenger side of my car is WAY to fucking close for comfort. What the hell? We have huge-ass parking spaces at work, and there are always about 500 free spots. Their front drivers side tire was over the line and on my side, and they were parked with a slight angle, as opposed to straight on. So, I pull out, and park in the spot right behind where I am. I wanted to check the body of my truck, yeah, because I'm anal about these things. Granted, my vehicle isn't anything special, but it's body is pretty well taken care of. I own a 2000 Nissan Frontier. A quick spray with a hose, and it looks brand new.
So I walk over to the passenger side, and what do you suspect I see? That's right. A 5 inch mother-fuckin' vertical gray/white gouge has graced it's presence upon my passenger side door. Right in the middle of it.
::pop::
I look up at the car that parked next to me. A new Impala. Gray in color. And all I could do was stare at it. People don't know how to fucking drive, and it pisses me off sometimes. I was once tailed, inches, all the way up the hill to get to work, and she honked at me multiple times. It's a very dangerous road to drive on, for it only being a 5-mile, 2-lane road. Well, turns out she worked at Barona. I saw her name badge, took her license plate, and checked for an employee sticker. She hadn't registered her car with security yet, but man alive, she drove like a madwoman. I guess because she was partially late, but still... there's at least one death a month on that stretch of road. A couple of them a year are always fellow employees. I don't like the fact knowing there's a 1 in 3500 chance I could die going to work.
But yes, we're talking about parking. What do I do? I considered parking again, sliding over to the passenger side, and slamming my door into their car a few times, good and hard. I considered walking over there and snapping a key off into one of their locks. I considered just flat out keying it. I considered getting a polaroid camera and taking a few pictures and leaving them on their windshield with a note. I considered leaving a note. I considered trying to go through security to get the surveillance tape. And I just kept staring at the car.... my God, I'm so incredibly uptight sometimes. I forced myself to just get into my automobile and drive away. And all I wanted to do was turn around and park right next to them, and just wait for them to get off of work so I could calmly, but straightfowardly point out the ways of their err, but more importantly, how they could make it better again.
I have inner-rage issues.
sugar_on_asphalt:
Inner rage issues perhaps, but (to quote Begbie), "Manners nivir cost any cunt nowt." What an asshole... 