Impounding Sticker
Nov. 22nd, 2005 07:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
livingdebToday I found a big, day-glo orange sticker on my car saying that it was parked illegally and would be impounded.
Last night when I came home, there were cars parked in front of my house, so I parked in front of someone else's house. Today, I didn't drive anywhere, but I decided to move my car to be polite. Not until after work, though, when I could have moved it this morning. Still, it was sitting in front of the other person's house for less than 24 hours.
I tried to look up parking regulations for my city but couldn't find any. So I called the police's non-emergency number and sat on hold for awhile.
I asked what the rule was that I was breaking. She asked which direction I was facing--the proper direction. I had to make a several-point turn to do that, too. She said I might have been too far from the curb or too close to a driveway. I really, really don't think so. Then she said that some neighborhoods have voted to disallow parking in the street in residential areas. Any parking? No, we all park in the street because we all have one-car driveways. Then she said there should be a phone number on the sticker. There wasn't one.
So, although at first I thought that my neighbor had called me in, and was therefore a jerk, it's hard to imagine what he had called me in for.
Robin said maybe the neighbor has a friend in the police who just stuck the sticker on. (And it's not the kind that comes off easily.)
But it has no phone number. So I think maybe he bought a stack of these stickers himself, which he enjoys sticking on car windows at the slightest provocation, the way some people drag their keys across cars, only this way he gets to feel more self-important. That would make him more than just a regular, every day jerk.
What I am wondering is what was I supposed to do? It is illegal to park in our yards. I am enjoying a fantasy where I pave a huge, ugly driveway right through the center of my front yard. That will show them!
Is the problem that I parked there or that I didn't move it in the morning? If the latter, I guess I can live with that. But if it's the former, that means you should never have parties because too many people will want to be in your neighborhood, parking willy-nilly wherever they feel like. And then the world will come to an end.
Part of me thinks I should talk to him and find out what bothered him so I don't bother him again. Another part of me thinks that if I talk to him, he will have more data on me, the better to ruin my life later, for daring to come up to his doorstep. Also, people have shotguns in this state.
Also, I have an irrational dislike of initiating contact with strangers, and an additional irrational dislike of asking for even the tiniest of favors. So approaching a stranger to ask for the favor of an explanation is something I would dread the whole time I was rehearsing it over and over to prepare.
Robin was surprised that such a little thing could get me so angry. It's because we let people park in front of our house all the time and it's no problem. But the second I want someone to return the favor, forget it. It's like the first time I tried to change lanes in front of another car. Mostly I am an extremely submissive driver, but there was a parked car in front of me and I didn't want to come to a screeching halt. Too bad for me because the car in the other lane sped up and honked his horn instead of letting me in when I turned on my turn signal. At that point in my short driving career, I had let hundreds, maybe thousands, of drivers in front of me, but the first time I tried it, forget it. (Yes, it's possible I was cutting it too close, but quite unlikely because I tend to err in the other direction.) At times like this I feel like I am the only nice person in the universe. And that's not fair! And that's why I get so angry.
Tuna Biscuit Bake Update - If you just can't get enough of that recipe, you can see a picture of it and read about fears of whopping and whop-to-glop ratios at Chikuru's entry, W.B.T.B. (Whop Biscuit Tuna Bake). You know you want to. You are finding yourself strangely drawn to it.
Chocolate Cake from Santa Update - The fabulous chocolate cake with perhaps even more butter than chocolate which the Santa-like ex-rednecks delivered to my door came from The Cheesecake Factory and is called Black-Out Cake. In case you find the picture, I should tell you that in real life it looks much bigger and a little more delicious. A slice the size of having only one of those little semi-circles of chocolate on top was enough for one meal plus two desserts.
Last night when I came home, there were cars parked in front of my house, so I parked in front of someone else's house. Today, I didn't drive anywhere, but I decided to move my car to be polite. Not until after work, though, when I could have moved it this morning. Still, it was sitting in front of the other person's house for less than 24 hours.
I tried to look up parking regulations for my city but couldn't find any. So I called the police's non-emergency number and sat on hold for awhile.
I asked what the rule was that I was breaking. She asked which direction I was facing--the proper direction. I had to make a several-point turn to do that, too. She said I might have been too far from the curb or too close to a driveway. I really, really don't think so. Then she said that some neighborhoods have voted to disallow parking in the street in residential areas. Any parking? No, we all park in the street because we all have one-car driveways. Then she said there should be a phone number on the sticker. There wasn't one.
So, although at first I thought that my neighbor had called me in, and was therefore a jerk, it's hard to imagine what he had called me in for.
Robin said maybe the neighbor has a friend in the police who just stuck the sticker on. (And it's not the kind that comes off easily.)
But it has no phone number. So I think maybe he bought a stack of these stickers himself, which he enjoys sticking on car windows at the slightest provocation, the way some people drag their keys across cars, only this way he gets to feel more self-important. That would make him more than just a regular, every day jerk.
What I am wondering is what was I supposed to do? It is illegal to park in our yards. I am enjoying a fantasy where I pave a huge, ugly driveway right through the center of my front yard. That will show them!
Is the problem that I parked there or that I didn't move it in the morning? If the latter, I guess I can live with that. But if it's the former, that means you should never have parties because too many people will want to be in your neighborhood, parking willy-nilly wherever they feel like. And then the world will come to an end.
Part of me thinks I should talk to him and find out what bothered him so I don't bother him again. Another part of me thinks that if I talk to him, he will have more data on me, the better to ruin my life later, for daring to come up to his doorstep. Also, people have shotguns in this state.
Also, I have an irrational dislike of initiating contact with strangers, and an additional irrational dislike of asking for even the tiniest of favors. So approaching a stranger to ask for the favor of an explanation is something I would dread the whole time I was rehearsing it over and over to prepare.
Robin was surprised that such a little thing could get me so angry. It's because we let people park in front of our house all the time and it's no problem. But the second I want someone to return the favor, forget it. It's like the first time I tried to change lanes in front of another car. Mostly I am an extremely submissive driver, but there was a parked car in front of me and I didn't want to come to a screeching halt. Too bad for me because the car in the other lane sped up and honked his horn instead of letting me in when I turned on my turn signal. At that point in my short driving career, I had let hundreds, maybe thousands, of drivers in front of me, but the first time I tried it, forget it. (Yes, it's possible I was cutting it too close, but quite unlikely because I tend to err in the other direction.) At times like this I feel like I am the only nice person in the universe. And that's not fair! And that's why I get so angry.
Tuna Biscuit Bake Update - If you just can't get enough of that recipe, you can see a picture of it and read about fears of whopping and whop-to-glop ratios at Chikuru's entry, W.B.T.B. (Whop Biscuit Tuna Bake). You know you want to. You are finding yourself strangely drawn to it.
Chocolate Cake from Santa Update - The fabulous chocolate cake with perhaps even more butter than chocolate which the Santa-like ex-rednecks delivered to my door came from The Cheesecake Factory and is called Black-Out Cake. In case you find the picture, I should tell you that in real life it looks much bigger and a little more delicious. A slice the size of having only one of those little semi-circles of chocolate on top was enough for one meal plus two desserts.
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on 2005-11-23 09:09 am (UTC)I wouldn't be able to confront the neighbor either, for pretty much the same reasons you described. I really don't have any advice for you, but wanted to let you know I know exactly how you feel.
Sorry you had that experience while changing lanes. That sucks, too. In that particular case, you can probably just honk back. Sometimes people have other reasons for honking, like warning you know they're not planning on letting you through, then speeding up so you can get in right behind them maybe, or telling you that your trunk is open. I felt bad about honking back at someone who was just trying to let me know I didn't have headlights on at night. Driving really brings out the bitchiest sides of me, which is the other reason I've taken the bus sometimes. :)