Today was not my day. I spent a hectic day at work and came home in an angry funk. I tried to fight off the bads in various ways, but it was an uphill battle. I took the dog for a walk. I watched some 30 Rock. I still felt crummy. When Brian called to invite me to come meet him and his school buddies for dinner in Raleigh, I didn’t really feel like leaving the house, but I made the executive decision that a little beer and company on a Friday night was exactly what I needed, so I told him I’d come out to meet them.
I went to get into my car and realized that it was partly blocked in by a haphazardly parked truck with a trailer on it. I could still pull my car out, but it took some maneuvering. My bad mood came back with a vengeance. Not only was the truck almost blocking me in, it was also parked directly behind and thus blocking the two handicapped parking spots in front of our apartment complex!
What the hell? Who does that?!? In a sudden fit of pique I parked nearby, grabbed a notepad from my glove compartment and hastily scribbled an angry note. It said, “You are blocking 2 handicapped spots! WTF! Seriously!?”
I got out of the car to throw my note into the cab of the truck, since the driver’s side window was down, and stopped short.
Hanging from the truck’s rear-view mirror was a handicapped parking permit.
Like I said, not my day.
I Heard Tell 