Isn't it funny how two people can experience the same event and yet remember it in two completely different ways? George and I have that problem.
I had a lovely lunch with George yesterday at Pesto's. Really good food, nice conversation. It was great, until I wanted to go home. We agree on this part of the day. See the nice green van being blocked by the son of evil grey van? Yup, that was me in there.
At first I thought it was just someone running in to a business and couldn't find a place to park. I don't do that, but I know people who do (George). If you are in a hurry, I can understand the reason you don't want to find a place to park, and walk 20 more feet. I don't like it, but I do understand it. George went in to several nearby businesses and a construction site, but no one would admit to parking there.
After 15 minutes, I figured whoever it was wasn't in a hurry. So I called the parking lot management system to get some help, they said they would send someone right out. Funny how when you go 10 minutes over your paid time, they can ticket your car in 5 seconds, but if you double park, they never show up.
After 30 minutes a nice police detective stopped nearby and gave me the number for the police dispatch office as it wasn't exactly a 911 moment. I called and they said someone would be right out too.
By this time George was tired of my "whining, and complaining" see this is where the stories differ, I thought I was being patient. He says "I was ready to start ramming it with our van." We both agree it was a good idea to look in the other van to get some clue to the owner. George discovered a hard hat and some tools, and concluded it had to be someone at the construction site he already visited. He was right. (see I can admit it sometimes)
George went back to the site and was able to get someone to track the guy down. When the guy showed up, he was mad at me! He said I had taken his spot that he had paid for at 7AM. I politely disagreed with him, I had also paid for the spot when I showed up at lunch time. I nicely explained that he was making me late to pick up my kids from school. I am sure I was all that was nice and kind.
George of course, remembers things a bit differently. He says there was a lot of cursing and screaming, and that the poor man ran to his van and hid from me. Well, George does have a poor memory, but I love him anyway.
What is wrong with you people? Learn how to park already!
