Big Trucks and Parking Spaces

"This is what I'm going to do today.  If you have something else in mind let me know."  The guy who shared this looked like The Fonz - big pompadour, sleeveless black T-shirt, every exposed inch of skin tattooed.  I like it when things are simple, although you wouldn't know this watching me try to complicate the hell out of everything.  I like the idea that it's very human to try to find a comfortable place in the world and that it's very spiritual to listen to any and all ideas that god might have, all while trying not to trod on the toes of my fellows.  It allows me to move forward while suggesting that I don't knock down any old ladies or neonatal physicians.

Yesterday the movers came - guys from The Program who are the best.  They had a big truck which they parked in the condo parking lot, blocking a few spaces.  We were in and out of the building every few minutes and our apartment is right next to the entrance door.  It would be hard to miss exactly who was moving.  Anyway, a couple of people called the building management company to complain.  This pissed me off.  It reminded me of someone tattling behind my back to the teacher.  

"Why not come in and ask me to move the truck? " I thought.  I would have cheerfully done that.   I do realize that not all truck movers would be cheerful and that a lot of people are terrified of confrontation, especially with a guy who looks somewhat like Ozzy Osbourne.  Still, it was chickenshit behavior.  I fumed a bit but not for long - I'm sick but I'm getting better.

As I sat idly contemplating my navel I remembered an incident from the day before.  I had parked my car on our busy street - SuperK and I were unloading groceries and backpacks with our exercise gear.  A little old lady across the street, unbidden, said: "If you move your car up then someone else can park there, too."

I looked at my car: "I don't think so," I said.  I'm an outstanding parking guy.

"Yes," she insisted.   She waved vaguely: "I live around here."

"I live around here, too," I replied, heating up over the advances of this nosy busybody.  "I'll tell you what: I'll come back out and move my car after I get my groceries inside."

"You're a mean person," she said.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" I countered, concluding our exchange.

Yes. Yes.  Why wouldn't someone want to come out and ask me to move a large truck?  Why wouldn't they want to do that?  I don't know.  I have no idea.

"Again with the cars," SuperK said.