The spot I rent in an alley near my apartment for my MD-tag car is in between a building of contemporary $1.5mil condos and an auto-body/mechanics shop that has been there for nearly 30 years. I’ve taken my car to the shop for tires and Amanda had them put a new exhaust on her Civic. Nice folks.
I came home the Saturday night before last from GURUCON nerd-party 2006 around 1:30AM.
Driving down Champlaign St. in Adams Morgan at that time of night is a gauntlet of drunk drivers, double parkers, and lost visitors from bordering states unsure how wide their Expeditions are taking out side-view mirrors. 15 minutes and 2 blocks later I’m pulling into the alley, which is a party-in-progress. The gang from the mechanic’s fill their lot on the weekends with cars like sardines in a can, crowds of their friends are milling about, and so on. It was tight getting past the shop to my spot, people had to move their cars, crowds were parted, and they all closed back in behind me. I’m in no rush, it’s 1:30 AM and I’m a block from my apartment.
I get out and start trying to figure out how I’m going to carry my laptop, a bag full of beers, and a box full of empties that I want to save for bottling later.
That’s when the yelling starts from the entrance to the alley.
A woman’s voice.
“No! You move these cars right now!”
Laughter.
“I Live here! You! Move these cars! I live here!”
No slower than they moved for me, without the yelling, the crowd parted and a late-model SUV surged up the alley and parked two spots up from me. Nice lady. She slammed the car door and marched into the fancy condo buildings on a mission. Maybe she had to pee. Or worse.
Awfully tl;dr but the double-parking discussion earlier made me think of this opposite scenario. Local new-resident: You are being a bitch to your neighbors, if it’s a biological emergency, at least yell it out so that we give you the benefit of the doubt.
“I have to shit! Move these cars!”
Would have worked for me.
