It was such a lovely
morning. We were given last minute
tickets to a screening of Monsters University (thanks, Kate!), a blessing
because I wasn't looking forward to a string of days being asked when we were
going to see it. The screening including
free snacks and drinks, so we happily munched our way through a movie that only required 1 bathroom
break. Then we wandered through the mall
to a couple kid-related stores (come on, like I was going to deny my children a
trip to the Disney Store after sitting mostly quietly for almost 2 hours) and had Taco Bell for
lunch. That's pretty darned perfect
outing, yes?
And then we went out to the car to find a piece of paper
flapping under my windshield. My first thought
was, "Oh no, someone hit my car and left me an apology and hopefully some
insurance information." But a quick
look around showed no damage. So I
opened the note. Written on torn out
spiral notebook paper in pink bubble letters was some of the foulest (sailors-blushing
level) language I've ever read accusing me of improper parking that resulted in
the writer requiring police intervention to get into her vehicle (this is an important distinction - to get INTO her vehicle in the first place, not out of the parking space).
Me being me, I immediately wondered how badly I must have
parked to cause such a situation. And I
would totally own up to it, too, but I truly could not figure out how in the
world my parking job could have blocked a person out of her - and yes, I'm
going to go ahead and say this was a teenage girl based on the evidence and my
incredible powers of deduction - car. I
was between the lines and nowhere near the cars parked on either side of mine
at the moment. Also, there was no
ticket, so (again with the powers of deduction) either a) I was parked legally
and the police had no reason to cite me, or b) there were no cops*, you lying
lying liar.
Still, this took a bite out of my happy day and put me in a
funk for the rest of the afternoon, which is probably what Barbie McPottyMouth
wanted in the first place. But what
truly bugs is that this is what some young girl thinks is appropriate conduct. I hate that she's learned to deal with
frustrating situations by spreading nastiness and garbage. I doubt that such behavior would make her
mother proud. I can't imagine her
thinking it a fine idea to teach her daughter the same way to handle a
frustrating situation. It just makes me
sad.
Since I can't address this paragon of virtue in any other
way, I leave my thank you note here.
Dear Parking Lot Compadre,
Let me just say that I appreciate the effort it took for you
to pen such an impressively vicious letter.
Your use of expletives was extensive, if not overly creative. You took time out of your precious day to
share humiliation, shame, and disgust with another human being. How kind of you to write all that down instead
of telling my directly in front of my children, lest they forget. Such an eye for posterity you have
I hope that your future studies help you craft your gift of
eloquence. Perhaps you will go on to
develop your own personal oeuvre of profanity that generations to come will use
to spew maliciousness, maybe even to your own children. I will be sure to use your seminal work here
to teach my family the finer points of spite and malice. You are a true wunderkind.
My sadness is that I cannot assist your progress through the
gift of a dictionary so that you can look up all the words in this message that
you probably don't know and also start your journey to proper spelling. I also wish you well in your inevitable enrollment
in defensive driving, because if you park in such a way that you cannot
physically enter your car (from either side, really?), then surely you will
become quite familiar with the class. Go
forth and prosper.
In Between the White Lines,
The Lady in the Properly Parked Minivan
*I'm guess the "cops" were either a figment of
her imagination or the mall security guy on his Segway.
She sounds just charming.
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