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Dreams of Keying a Car

Part of: LA

As soon as I got to my car this morning, someone was on top of me. I held up my hand to indicate I was going to be five minutes. I hate when people spend a year getting ready to leave or have no intention of leaving at all and don’t flag you away. Yeah, you people suck. And the folks who block lanes at shopping centers creating traffic jams just to wait for a spot, because they are too lazy to drive a few more seconds or God forbid walk more.

I was going to get my car washed and had to clean it out. Does anyone not have to do this? (You folks are anal retentive). The guy leaves, and then I’m able to focus on the fact that a tiny grey car has wedged itself between my car and an ugly white van. I walk over on either side to see how much space there is. Oh, three or four inches. I take a look at my painted over bumper and can’t tell if there’s a new scratch on it. I start getting very mad. I literally have never seen a car so wedged in. Then I write a note and slap in under the windshield:

Please do not park your car so close next time. You obviously had to hit the bumpers of both of our cars.

I’m not sure the van owner would’ve cared, but I wanted to be egalitarian.

Later on in the day, the car was still there, but the owner had taken the note off. Next time I won’t be so nice. The car owner was lucky I wasn’t one of those psychos who key cars.

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