Open Letter...
Dear Lady in my building,
I'm so sorry that my 1998 Suzuki Swift got in the way of your boyfriend's mid-Millennial Mazda race car that found it's way into our parking lot this winter. It must be really stressful for him to leave a car of that caliber in a parking lot as welfare as ours. It must be especially strenuous for him considering the parking lot he's used to using belongs to the neighbouring apartment complex, and not the one you're living in.
What I can't understand is how I could have put your visiting boyfriend out to the point where he'd have to park his car even closer to our building - I'm so inconsiderate. To think, that parking next to the door as opposed to next to the dumpster was just such an inconvenience - where was my head? For someone who pays for her parking spot, I should have had a better understanding for Grotto Parking-lot etiquette.
And what's worse, is that I, in all my thoughtlessness, put you in a position to discomfort yourself by coming up to me, the stranger who stole your weekend-boyfriend's parking spot, and inquiring about when I intended on moving out of the spot - and then, oh the awkwardness, of you having to correct me when I thought you were talking about the spot by the door that I had parked in that night because of my 4 year old and his painful, fractured arm. I'm sure coming up to a strange woman and her small child who was doubled over in pain, in the middle of the night, while a shady Mexican Man stared on by the dumpsters by your boyfriend's stolen parking spot, was really a difficult task for your to execute, especially when urging your small yappy dog to urinate in front of the door we all use.
So my apologies, sweet, middle-aged, Butter-Faced, faux-blonde living in my building. Forgive me for putting you in a position to wear the pants in your relationship. Please take pity on my ignorance - I didn't realise that single people in their late-40's were lacking in able-bodied'ness. Being in my early 20's, I had no idea that a man's mid-life crisis involved having his woman fights his battles over which angle he receives the fragrant scents of refuse belonging to about 50 welfared families, nor had I really given it much thought between working 45 hours a week and nursing my 4-year-old's shattered elbow.
I hope that in time, you can come to forgive me and perhaps then we can live in a ghetto of peace and understanding.
Sincerely,
Ren-andthensome
I'm so sorry that my 1998 Suzuki Swift got in the way of your boyfriend's mid-Millennial Mazda race car that found it's way into our parking lot this winter. It must be really stressful for him to leave a car of that caliber in a parking lot as welfare as ours. It must be especially strenuous for him considering the parking lot he's used to using belongs to the neighbouring apartment complex, and not the one you're living in.
What I can't understand is how I could have put your visiting boyfriend out to the point where he'd have to park his car even closer to our building - I'm so inconsiderate. To think, that parking next to the door as opposed to next to the dumpster was just such an inconvenience - where was my head? For someone who pays for her parking spot, I should have had a better understanding for Grotto Parking-lot etiquette.
And what's worse, is that I, in all my thoughtlessness, put you in a position to discomfort yourself by coming up to me, the stranger who stole your weekend-boyfriend's parking spot, and inquiring about when I intended on moving out of the spot - and then, oh the awkwardness, of you having to correct me when I thought you were talking about the spot by the door that I had parked in that night because of my 4 year old and his painful, fractured arm. I'm sure coming up to a strange woman and her small child who was doubled over in pain, in the middle of the night, while a shady Mexican Man stared on by the dumpsters by your boyfriend's stolen parking spot, was really a difficult task for your to execute, especially when urging your small yappy dog to urinate in front of the door we all use.
So my apologies, sweet, middle-aged, Butter-Faced, faux-blonde living in my building. Forgive me for putting you in a position to wear the pants in your relationship. Please take pity on my ignorance - I didn't realise that single people in their late-40's were lacking in able-bodied'ness. Being in my early 20's, I had no idea that a man's mid-life crisis involved having his woman fights his battles over which angle he receives the fragrant scents of refuse belonging to about 50 welfared families, nor had I really given it much thought between working 45 hours a week and nursing my 4-year-old's shattered elbow.
I hope that in time, you can come to forgive me and perhaps then we can live in a ghetto of peace and understanding.
Sincerely,
Ren-andthensome
Comments