Generally, the pros column far outweighs the cons column. We love our neighborhood in the heart of the City, we love our neighbors, we love living within cabbing distance of just about anywhere we'd want to go for a martini or three. We even love living in an apartment so aptly named The Grotto. How many can say they live in a grotto like rabbits?
However, there is always ALWAYS one issue firmly planted in the Con category.
Our living arrangement does not include any off-street parking. There are no garages, no carports, no designated spaces. It is street parking only in a neighborhood full of other apartment houses all fighting for limited parking.
And, let me just say, I can often be found ranting loudly about terrible parking etiquette...usually directed at a driver hogging two spaces because he found it too much trouble to pull up 4 feet, in effect, adding two extra steps from car to front door and, instead, centers his vehicle with the building entrance without regard to the delicate parking balance in the 'hood.
But this isn't about parking etiquette.
About a week ago, I came home from work, found a decent parking space on the block just west of our house, made sure I gave the car in front of me enough room to be extracted without too much grief but pulling up close enough to allow for two more cars behind me. And then I went into my apartment for the night.
The next day, I went out to make a run to the grocery store and discovered someone had keyed my car - both driver's side door panels - deep enough to
I was pretty hot under my collar. Because really? Wow. Why? Clearly, I'd angered someone to the point that they'd destroy personal property but I hadn't done anything wrong! Not even slightly!
I let it go though. I realized I drive a 10-year-old car and am grateful I do especially when something like this happens. I decided it wasn't a personal affront and that, no matter the reason, this person's aggression wasn't about me.
Two days later, it snowed and, in the process of brushing the snow off my car, I discovered the passenger side doors - both of them - had been gouged with the same intensity and hate.
All of a sudden, it started to feel VERY personal.
I had apparently done something so heinous to someone that they would deliberately cause a thousand dollars' (at least) worth of damage to my property.
Not only did this hurt my feelings, the very nature of this passive-aggressive attack against me angered me. If there's a problem, confront me - knock on my door, leave me a note explaining your issue, give me a call. Do something productive to call my attention to this perceived slight I've dealt. Don't just act out in a vicious, physically and financially damaging way to get your point across, assuming I've acted out of malice and retaliating accordingly.
Because I'm not malicious. And, for the life of me, I can't figure out what I might have done to provoke someone into such incredibly mean action.
Why can't we all just get along?!
Inconsiderate, mean people. Sheesh.
This entry written in response to the GBE2 prompt Pet Peeves...of which I have several.