No, YOU’RE on Notice!

6/30/06

A grave injustice has this day been done, ladies and gentlemen. Your intrepid man about town yours truly has been accosted. Oh not by physical means, never think it. Who would be foolhardy enough to try and lay hands upon my imposing 5’5”, slightly pale physique? No, dear readers, this was an injustice visited upon me in written form.

I came out of work today to find the following slapped under the windshield wiper of my vehicle:

What the devil is going on here? Leaving the sort of sad, dollar-store nature of leaving a pre-printed rant that wasn’t even funny when it was invented forty years ago, the accusation was wholly unwarranted! Any of you who know me are aware that I am a very conscientious and considerate driver, even when it comes to parking. After reading this libel I even got out of my vehicle and inspected my placement in the space. Perhaps I made some error when I pulled into work this morning, I posited. Perhaps I was driving to work with my eyes closed and therefore missed the giant yellow lines painted on the sidewalk. Perhaps I parked on top of a human being. Who knew what could have happened?

Nothing of the sort. As per usual, I was well within the lines on either side, offering hundreds of gallons of open space for someone pulling in alongside. Now I was confused. What the devil was going on here? I can only come up with a few explanations, and I’m not really satisfied with any of them.

1. Whoever left the note was insane. Having just escaped from a minimum security booby hatch, they stole someone’s wallet, bought a shitty stocking-stuffer gift from Spencer’s Gifts, and just went hog wild papering the cars of innocent human beings.

2. While at work, someone hotwired my car, parked it like an asshole, got “ticketed”, then moved the car back. I must say this is the least likely scenario.

3. Someone who works in my office and knows me is fucking with me. Possessing no actual original thought or talent, they merely took the curiously inapplicable action of complaining about my parking in the most passive-aggressive, ass way possible. This one is the most likely, in my mind.

4. The person really believed I had parked in an unacceptable manner. Maybe they were on LSD, I dunno.

It’s fairly obvious from the bubbly, looping handwriting that a woman was responsible for this heinous act; either that or the most effeminate male on the planet. Perhaps Carson from Queer Eye ticketed my car. This doesn’t go a long way toward narrowing down the suspects, but at least if worse comes to worse I can spare the males from a desperate, blanket-revenge on all the females in the office.

Oh, and don’t think it didn’t escape my attention that she wrote “Crappy” under the model of car. Nice. Not only is some loony broad giving out erroneous fake tickets, but she’s insulting the aesthetics of my primary mode of transport as well. Actually, that was the only kinda funny part of the whole debacle.