Ned and hubcaps

Last night, after a detour to the grocery store to restock my perpetually empty fridge with food, I pulled into my apartment's parking lot to find that someone had rather ungraciously parked in my assigned space, space number five. Parking has always been an issue with me, especially considering that spaces are limited and that, while I know I'm burning up the world's limited supply of dinosaurs and fossilized plants, I really need a car to get around. This intruder in my space irked me. The irritation was multiplied by the fact that empty visitor spaces are available just a couple hundred yards away. So, being a nice guy, I left a short note under the interloper's windshield saying: "Please do not park here as it is my assigned space. Thank you."

However, after thinking about it, I realized that wasn't the note I really wanted to write. Not being practiced with confrontation, I initially figured that being brief would communicate my desire with as little chance possible of the stranger getting inordinately upset. (I make it policy not to upset strangers as you never know who is itching to return their cramped cell at the state bighouse.) The note I wanted to write is as follows:

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Dear Sir or Madam,

I understand how difficult parking can be here in this lot, especially as space is limited. No-one understands the difficulty of parking a vehicle relatively close to where you need to do business, attend school, or just visit others more than I. It simply is not fair to decent law abiding car owners not to have safe space to leave their vehicle. If I were mayor, it would be mandatory for the city to have large parking garages built every five blocks, radiating from the city center.

However, that understood, if you ever park here again -- so help me, I'll train that dirty drowned river-rat-looking nutria [Ned from the earlier blog entry] to crawl out of that diseased infested mud pile they call a creek and pee all over your hubcaps.

Thank you for your kind attention to this matter.