Spot #58 Has My Name On It

I tried to be a Good Samaritan today.

The story goes something like this.

A company has reserved parking it paid for. In the section in discussion here, two of its employees have their own private spots. It's all so scripted and coded. Until someone comes along and messes it all up.

Lately, this is what's been happening. A Volvo kept destabilizing the parking lot. To the point that somebody else's car ended up in my spot. I'm #58 god dang it. I'm 58! Yes, a number I am.

Ok. So it's tow the yuppie mobile time so we can all move on with it.

Not so quick.

I end up in the lot and spot the culprit entering her break-parking-rules and etiquette car. I figured she was informed of her misguided deed and was going to move the car. A fine psychic I am.

She pops out with an agenda in her hands.

Why the little...

This is where I go Biblical. In French I explain to her she's in the wrong spot and that her car will be towed.

She dismissed my claim. I was informed that she works for a big department store (who shall remain nameless for no apparent reason) and they had in fact bought all those spots. In fact, if anyone was in the wrong it was the company; which somewhere down the line perversely involved me.

"I'll tell you if they tow me..." and she made one of those 'don't mess with me and my kin' looks. It was time to move on.

I found her tone and defensiveness odd. It was this corporate approach to life that was going to hurt her in the end. Does anyone look beyond their fingertips anymore? Of course not.

Nonetheless, I proceeded to recommend she check her facts. After all, she could have been wrong. Maybe she was given improper information about her privileges. I know if I were her in her shoes (provided they suit a man) the first thing I'd do is verify to make sure everything was indeed in order.

So much for that. You can't help those who don't want to be helped.

I went upstairs and informed the company to make sure everything is alright on their end. The lady basically told me that our spots had been expropriated. It turns out she was wrong and we were right.

Her car was summarily towed.

I watched the whole thing. I felt guilty for enjoying it. Should I have at least sought the lady out to let her know? Then again, I did assert my advice and she refuted it.

So.

I allowed myself to be devishly entertained. All that was missing was a glass of Asti to be raised honoring the towing and its tower.

What?

Oh, spare me.

Note: A couple of days after this all went down guess what? She defiantly went back into the spot that does not belong to her. She was towed again. Sadly, I missed it. BUT, I did by pure luck happen to be around when she walked to her car and discovered it was gone. Priceless. Could you imagine working for someone so stubborn and childish?