Parking Wars

You were the middle-aged bleached-blond bimbo in the black Lincoln Navigator in Belmont Shore. We were far behind you when you decided to back into the oversize space that you (and another car) could have easily pulled forward into, so we stopped parallel to the car BEHIND the space you were trying to back into. You remained poised in reverse, blocking the narrow street in both directions. When, after about 30 seconds, I lightly tapped on my horn, you stuck your head of chicken-fat-yellow-colored hair out the window and yelled, “I’m trying to park here!”

I yelled back, “So what are you waiting for, applause?”

At that point, while still blocking the entire street, you put your massive SUV in park, got out and started walking toward our car. I yelled I was calling the police and to “GET BACK IN YOUR CAR AND MOVE IT!” all the while blaring the horn. You stopped after about two car lengths, uttered an expletive at us, and then, in the middle of the road for everyone to see, flipped us off! Then you slowly, slowly parked your car. Love how your sense of entitlement allowed you to impede everyone’s way for the better part of five minutes, you bourgeois loser.

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to “Hey, You!” c/o OC Weekly, 2975 Red Hill Ave., Ste. 150, Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or e-mail us at le*****@oc******.com.


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