When I get to the gym before 6PM, I have to park in the KBR parking garage. I hate giving that company the one dollar it costs to park there, but it’s the only nearby option. What can a girl do. Tonight I parked in a corner of the parking garage. I’m getting my shit together before exiting the car when a dickhead in a big ass pick up truck pulls into the spot that’s perpendicular to mine, blocking half of the back of my car in. Guess he didn’t realize I was still in my car. So I got out and stood by the trunk, waiting for him to come around the back of his behemoth so I could tell him he needed to move his piece of shit. He stood near the cab of his truck but wouldn’t come around. I think he knew I was waiting. So I made a big production of getting back in my car, heavy sighs and all, and whip out of the space to park elsewhere. I say “whip,” but it took some doing to not hit his truck. The only reason I was able to even get out of the space is because no one was parked next to me at that point, though I’m sure someone would have been after my workout and I would have been trapped. I hate being trapped.
Okay, so I pull into my new spot, grab my shit and jump out of my car so I can confront this jackass. He is looking at me over his shoulder as he almost jogs down the ramp to exit the garage. I begin to almost jog after him (no, I don’t know what my problem is) but he crosses the street in the middle of the block to get away from me. I may be willing to confront a total, potentially dangerous, stranger in a parking garage, but I won’t cross a downtown street illegally. So he got away, into the men’s locker room before I could catch him. I’m not even sure I really wanted to say anything to him. Mostly, I just wanted to give him my look of death. Even though I didn’t get to do it, I think he knew. I guess that’s enough.