Apartment (Lucky) Number 13

29-09-2009

A double post? You bet ya.

Mainly because this happened today and I figured it would be funny to post, or more accurately rant, about.

See when we moved in the landlord did say that park was a free for all, but it was all in a gated area that the building is in. It turns out that this is not actually the case.

Each apartment has an assigned parking space to it, with a little number on a wooden beam that you really have to go looking for at ground level to read.

This is all new information I learned this morning, after going out to get into my car and drive to work.

See I had a small problem, there was a car parked right behind my one. As in his front bumper was about an inch away from my back bumper, the entire car blocking the driveway.

This particularly bad (not to mention sort of illegal) parking perplexed me slightly. As I looked at the two cars, considering being a cheeky bastard and doing some needle threading driving to get mine out of it's current space and into the empty one beside me so I could drive on to work, a man in a suit came out of the building.

He looked, to be honest, like he might own the car.

Now, typical jester fashion is to insult and poke stupid people like this. But I figured making enemies so soon would be a bad idea. Instead I would try diplomacy. I calmly said:

"Have I parked in your space by mistake?"

Turns out it wasn't his car. We traded names, some nice morning talk, and he explained the numbering of spaces. I then went in search of the car owner.

Apartment number 13 is on the top floor of the building.

I went up, politely knocked on the door, and waited.

Now, I have a few things that are odd about my physical makeup (no ugly jokes please). I can see further than most people I know and I can hear a lot more than I think is normal (like those mouse beep plugs. I can hear them. So can some other people I know).

I mention this because while I waited at the door I heard soft footsteps on the other side pad down the hall and stop at the door. There door of Apt. 13 has a peephole. Heavy breathing gave me an indication that somebody was on the other side watching me.

After a minute the footsteps returned, walking away from the door.

I knocked again and waited.

After a minute the door is opened by a man. An old man. I am not going to be nice about this because this man is a bastard. The fucker was so old that he probably watched the big bang happen and then complained afterwards that it was too loud. The reason I call this old fucker a bastard is as follows (bear in mind I was brought up to respect your elders and that is something that I do even now. Except for my best mate, one week does not make you an elder).

He shuffles into view.

"Hello," I said.

"Grunt," he replied. Honestly, I am not going to make any of this up.

"Um...okay. I think I might have parked in your space last night. I only found out from another person in the building that it is assigned parking."

Which is true, I figured honesty is the best policy in this one.

"That's right, you did."

Now, he isn't really forthcoming with any other sort of speech. So being contrite might work I think.

"Well...um...very sorry about that, like I said I didn't know. Honest mistake. So I won't do it in future."

"You're damn right you won't, I called the garda on you."

"You did what?"

"I called the garda on ya and reported your car. Told them you had parked it illegally. They told me to park my car like I just have and I won't be moving it."

Now, dear reader, I want you to bear one thing in mind. I hate lying and I really hate fucking stupid lying to try and make yourself be in the right. There is no way in a garda's left testicle would they recommend to a person to illegally park their car to prove a point. None. Zero. Not a chance of it. I mean what's wrong with leaving a strongly worded letter or something? But illegally park your car? Not a chance.

But I was calm, I counted to ten in my head before calling this old bastard a lying shitbag (since he still had me blocked in) and moved on in a nice manner.

"Right..."

"Yes. I have been living here a year and at least once a month somebody parks in my space."

Right now I have this guy pegged. It isn't about the space (because there are a load of spaces) it is about having something to argue and moan about and kick up a fuss.

"Well that isn't me," I say, nicely.

"How can I be sure, you can just wait there until the garda come up."

"I can assure you, sir, that it hasn't been me."

"I only have your word for that," and he proceeds to close the door.

Now, I have a very long fuse when it comes to loosing my temper but I am one nose hair away from kicking that door before it closes and dislocating this shit's hip.

"Maybe the fact that I only moved in on Sunday might also prove my point," I say, taking out my phone and offering it to him. "You can ring the landlord to verify that."

He looks at me, obviously on shaky ground here. What to do, what to do sort of situation.

"I suppose I can move the car this time,..."

I don't wait for the following. I don't apologise again because the man is an arsehole. I bite back the cheeky response of "Because you have blocked me in." and just end the conversation with

"Great, because you have blocked the other cars further down." while I leg it down the stairs.

I am in the place three days (not even) and I have made a new enemy.

It's good being me.

=EDIT=

After telling this tale to some of the co-workers over lunch (they love my funny stories) I learned the following interesting bit of information. Turns out that because the apartment is in a gated area, along with the parking, that the garda have no power over the parking situation at all. So not only was he lying about being told to park illegally and teach me a lesson, he was lying about them having a care about it.

Blue_jester


Tags: rant


Curious Cat | Tue, 29 Sep 09 12:59:15 +0100

Was he called Norman with pants up to 'there' and nose hairs down to 'here'

blue_jester | Tue, 29 Sep 09 14:58:28 +0100

I dunno, I don't usually ask for the name that will be put on the headstone of my victims. That's up to next of kin :)

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