flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
Not only did I have to climb into my car through the passenger side three times in one week in my work parking garage (and I have a small car, and long legs, and a not-unsizeable ass, so I nearly did myself a mischief on the gearshift), but I park every night next to jackasses who rarely go OVER the line, but clearly lurve the line and want to be as near it as carly possible.
They also once stole my spot, which I discovered when I got home at 1:00 in the morning and had nowhere to put my car, because there’s no guest parking to speak of and people with second cars take it all. I didn’t have any proof that the perpetrator was one of them, but given their dickish parking and the fact that my spot is right near their door, I had a strong suspicion, and so my rage overcame my usual conflict-avoidy-ness and I knocked on their door. I didn’t even have to say anything, they opened the door right away and were like, “Oh. We’ll move it.” Dickheads.