I was a server for a while at an Italian restaurant. A group of teenagers came in, very clearly a sports team of some kind. I don’t expect much in way of a tip from them because teenagers, but that’s never stopped me from giving good service.
They’re rowdy af, constantly making me run back and forth for every little thing they could think of, just being all around d-bags. I noticed a few of them had taken off their coats.
When it came time for the bill, they asked me to get a pitcher of water for them to share before they left. So I did, and when I got back they were all gone without paying. Awful, right? Except these absolute MORONS forgot they were wearing their jackets that said “local high school wrestling team.”
You bet I immediately called that school. You bet I told everybody I talked to that the team had stolen from the restaurant. You bet when my step-uncle showed up and told them that they stole from his niece that every single one of their lives were made more miserable for the rest of the season. I was okay with that.
I also got paid for that check and a 40% tip.
So I live in a suburban area of a fairly large city, renting a basement suite with a friend. I moved into this spot recently, and would say I’m a pretty chill person to live around; I work full time, and go to classes, so am rarely home, so basically never disruptive. One important thing about this neighbourhood is that it has no drive ways, but street parking is plentiful, and it is never hard to find a spot within steps of your house on either side of the street.
I have been often parking directly across the street from my place, as that way I don’t have to turn around when I get home, and there has always been spots in front and behind me. I tend to only drive my car about once a week, and getting into it this morning, I noticed multiple notes.
The first, a full page tucked under my wiper blades read “be a good neighbour, park on your side of the street like you told us.”
What the hell, I just moved into this neighbourhood, and have certainly never spoken to anyone on the street. Also strange and unsettling that they would know I live on the other side of the street, as that means they’ve watched me leave my car, and I tend to only drive really late, since I work the night shift.
Since apparently I didn’t respond quickly enough to their first note, they then left a second, a series of “????” post-its on my windshield. I think whatever, probably just an over-controlling old person, it’s no biggie for me to turn around and park on the other side.
I park on the “correct” side of the street, wanting to avoid confrontation; until the other night. I had gotten off late from work, pull into my street, park, and hop out of my car before I totally register that I didn’t turn around. At this point it’s 1:30am, and I’m like whatever, I’m sure it won’t affect anyone.
Wrong. The next morning there was an even more passive aggressive sticky note on my windshield, calling me inconsiderate and disrespectful. Cool, I can do that.
I have a membership to a car-sharing service in the city. How it works is you can unlock a car from an app, pay by minute that you drive, then park it and leave it in allowable zones; one such zone is on my street. I decide I’m going to do a little commute home, and find every car within walking distance from me. One-by-one, I rent each car, driving to my street, and parking it, directly across from my house.
By the time I’m done, within a quarter-block, there is a series of rental cars, taking all the north-side spots; of course, I left lots of spaces directly across the street, so there was plenty of space to park. I hope my neighbours love their parking options on the public street.
This came from a friend. Funniest story.
His 18-year-old son was driving a new company truck for the first time and was a little inexperienced. At the parking lot of Home Depot, the kid somehow pissed off a woman driving a late 1960’s El Camino with a badge, “SS 396,” a powerful 375-hp version. Now, this part of Bakersfield is rife with meth addicts. Not exactly the safest.
A tattooed woman with bad teeth came out of the car with an aluminum baseball bat, screaming, “Motherfucker, fuck with me, boy.” She hit the back of the truck and caused damage so the kid was scared and left the scene immediately before she could walk to the right window. She ran back to her El Camino and he heard her tires peel off as she drove off the parking lot to follow him. A very scary experience.
The kid got to the first stop light and she got next to him and started screaming expletives. When the light turned green, he gunned it. She also floored her pedal and the tires spun like crazy, billowing smoke, but the new company truck also had a 375-hp engine, coincidentally, so he was able to prevent her from getting in front of the truck.
The second intersection is where it got interesting. He stopped about three feet before the line and she didn’t expect it, slamming her brakes to a screeching halt as she got a little ahead of him. On the crossing street was an approaching Kern County Sheriff vehicle, a big Chevrolet Suburban.
The kid turned to the crazy psychotic woman opening the door of her El Camino, not paying attention to the stop light or the approaching sheriff, then he hit the gas pedal, intending to quickly hit his brakes afterwards after the line to get the approaching sheriff’s attention.
She could not see above the hood of the truck, so she didn’t know about the approaching sheriff. Furthermore, her eyes were fixed on him and his truck’s movement led her to think the light turned green without even turning to check. She pulled her foot back in the El Camino and floored the gas pedal, sending the rear tires loudly squealing right when he slammed his brakes a few feet forward.
She moved her El Camino by a good 30 feet and slammed on her brakes when she realized the light was still red. Not only that, she jumped right in the middle of the intersection, in front of the Suburban, forcing the sheriff to take drastic measures, nearly losing control of his big Suburban and crashing in an embankment.
Oh, yeah, she got arrested – drugs, reckless driving, vandalism, and criminal threats.
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