I turn off the shop lights, shut down the computer, set the alarm, lock the door, ponder the fun I will have scraping a quarter inch of ice off my windshield, walk to my parallel-parked car...and just stare at it for a while.
The lovely and thoughtful motorist driving the car in front of mine felt the overwhelming need to park their car a mere SIX AND ONE HALF INCHES FROM MINE. (Yes, I measured.) This might not have been a problem had the lovely and thoughtful motorist driving the car behind mine not done the same.
I'll say it again. Crap.
So I did the logical thing and sifted through my options.
- Wait in the store for one or both of those fine people to show up and kindly move their vehicle that I might move mine. Nope, too much like a doormat. I'd never forgive myself.
- Walk home. Nope, doable but hell...it's cold.
- Go check at every restaurant in a two block radius for the owner and politely request that they attend to their car. Nope, not my job, and I most assuredly would not have been polite. And it's cold, remember?
- Use my little Saturn to, ehrm, "redesign" the cars' bumpers to the point that I have enough room to maneuver. Nope, while this would be oh-so-satisfying...I doubt I'd have the balls to go through with it. Plus, in all likelihood, I'd only end up redesigning my own wee plastic car.
- Go back in the warm store, call the police, let them tow the car, and then go home. Yep, this is what I went with.
So, an hour after I tried to get in my car and leave, a cop shows up. Sirens blaring and lights flashing and everything. So the cop went and did cop things, including #3 from above. She managed to find the Schmuck that had the bad judgement to park his car illegally behind mine. (Did I mention he was parked illegally? Yep, he was.) So they come back as I'm scraping my car, which was about as much fun as I figured it would be (read: no fun at all), and it turns out that Schmuck is a Horizon league referee in town to ref the Butler Basketball game, I assume. And the following conversation unfolded as I scraped my car:
Schmuck: "Hey, that your car? Young lady, that your car?"
Me: *unbelieving stare at the ridiculous amount of belligerence in his tone*
Schmuck: "What's your problem?! There's plenty of room. A little effort next time, huh? I'm parked legally. I don't know what your problem is. How much room do you need?"
Me: "Well, enough that I can actually move the car without getting your silver paint all over my bumper. Two feet of space would be great."
(Did I mention he drives a silver Ford Escape? Yep. So anytime you see a silver Ford Escape in the midwest, feel free to key it for me.)
Schmuck: "You got two feet. There's a foot there *gestures to the front of my car* and a foot there. *gestures to the rear* That's two feet."
Me, after some more staring: "Actually, it's only 6 1/2 inches. I measured. Pft. Is that the kind of judgement you use when you ref games? No wonder you're still stuck in the Horizon league."
Schmuck, now very red in the face: "Fine, let's go. Move your car."
Me, not so much staring anymore as coming up with creative new uses for the extendo-windshield scraperbrush in my pissed off little hands: "Uhm, no. I still have to close my shop and finish scraping my car."
Schmuck: "Are you kidding? You had an hour to do that."
Me, beyond caring, totally losing it, and gesturing wildly with the aforementioned scraper: "Dude, you are the one who blocked me in, wasting an hour of my life. Yaknowhat? You're on my time, now. Stop complaining."
Schmuck, not taking this well: *manly groan of frustration and contempt followed by him getting into his car, slamming the door and moving it back about 8 inches, turning it off and getting out in a very pissed off fashion*
Copper, who until this point had just been watching and being police-like: "Sir, you're now parked illegally. Please move your vehicle."
I cannot even begin to express how much I laughed when the po-po made the guy move his car AGAIN...and to the parking lot not 150 feet away.
So, I finished scraping my car, closed up shop (again), and finally got home over an hour after closing time.
Where I promptly opened a bottle of shiraz and got my drink on. Two-buck Chuck saves the day.