You are the homeowner who left a nasty note on my car after I parked in front of your house. So I didn’t park there again, simply to avoid your wrath. A few days ago I had to park there, as all other neighborhood spaces were taken. Early the next morning, you knocked loudly on my door. “I thought that I was very clear about the street parking in front of my house,” you said. “I paid over $2 million for that house and have the right to claim it as MY PARKING space.”
“Sorry lady,” I responded. “You are only a tenant in this neighborhood.”
Then you tell me your husband died yesterday at Hoag Hospital, and you’re expecting many people who’ll want to express their condolences today, so you need that space.
I stood there and stared at you. . . . I tried to say I was sorry for your loss, but you wouldn’t let me speak. Crazy lady; crazy neighborhood.
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