I cry about most things in life.
I cry when I'm stressed, nervous, happy, pissed. I sob. I weep. I lose total control over my emotions and begin wailing so uncontrollably that the only thing to console me is time. I am forced to wait it out. And tissues in hand, I do.
After a more difficult day I found myself driving home ANXIOUS to sit with my husband and talk. Be. Drink coffee. Watch The Bachelor. Laugh. Anything really. I just wanted to be home.
And my grand plans of a relaxing drama-less night were slammed shut when I parked my car that evening. You see, cars were parked in front of my house and so I parked across the street. Normal, right? I mean we all park on the street and more often than not are forced to park several houses away or across when spaces aren't available in front. I get that. We all get that. Or so I thought.
As I'm walking away from the car, towards the house, I hear this tiny little voice calling out to me. I turn and this little hunch back woman is talking to me, arms all crazy and flailing about. I walk closer, I'm sorry?
Now what are you doing parking in front of my house?
Um... there aren't any spaces across the street...
You don't know how to parallel park? What's wrong with you?
Oh I do, but there aren't spaces across the street... my car is too big to fit.
I'm pointing at the obese mini-van Enterprise forced me to drive while the car is in the shop.
Too big to fit?! You don't know how to parallel park? What's wrong with you? When I was your age and I drove I knew how to parallel park.
At this point she is showing me how to parallel park and the neighbors are walking outside, standing on the porch watching our interaction. I'm increasingly nervous, not sure where this is all headed.
I'm sorry, I didn't think I could fit, I'll have my husband come out and move the car.
I'm so 1950's.
The exchange continued, she growing more irate and me apologizing more. I couldn't think of what to say to SHUT.HER.UP. And all the neighbors watching... so stressful. Were they entertained? Were they watching out for her in case I lost it on her? Does she always flip out on people?
Other questions enter my mind as she continues her monologue... she was so quick to call me out! Was she watching from the window? Is she the guard dog on the street? Why am I scared? I could take her, she's little. But why am I nervous?!
She calms down a bit and the conversation transitions into How do you like the neighborhood? Oh isn't this street lovely... such good people...
She goes on and on about how much she liked the former owner and how her daughter grew up in that house playing with her cousins. She told me the exact layout of our home, describing in great detail things like the closets and doorways. And I'm confused because now she seems to be welcoming me to the street. I've not met her before this, not even seen her. And she went from her tirade on street parking to We are so happy to have you!
I am so confused at this point that as I cross the street to go home I start crying. I mean catching-my-breath crying. It was like the time I rode my scooter down our street and lost control. Fear kept me from slowing down in a neighbors yard (he warned me not to...) so I tried to slow down on my own. I jumped off trying to run-to-walk slow down and found myself on the ground sliding several yards on my side. I walked home so controlled until I was about 5 yards away and the emotions let loose. I cried like the little girl I was.
This time I made it inside and instead of my mother hugging me and soothing my wounds I had my husband who said all the things I wanted to hear. She's crazy! Of course you know how to parallel park! That lady is insane!
And he took the keys to the obese mini-van so he could re-park it. Turns out I was right. The space was WAY too small to fit the obese mini-van so he had to park down the street.
I really wanted to walk over and tell her where we had to park. My husband is the best parallel parker and even he said it couldn't fit. The best NYC resident couldn't make it fit. I'm sure of it...