WARNING:

They took my car.

Let me say it again.

They took my car.


I came home after being out all day running errands and getting my roomates car worked on. All day I had a nagging feeling in the back of my skull, but I chalked it up to a bout I have been having with depression and the need for reassurance. I tried to be nice. I even reached up and got something off of a high shelf for a lady in a store I didn't even work in, because it was nice. Because it was the right thing to do.

Well I guess no good deed goes unpunished.

I got home, and my car was gone.


Turns out the apartment decided that it was abandoned, or dirty, or something. The office manager gleefully smirked as she presented me with a copy of my lease agreement regarding the parking of automobiles in the lot.

Here's the play-by play, highlighted by who will be referred to now henceforth as "The office bitch":
My notes will be included in parenteses.



We may regulate time, manner, and place of parking all cars, trucks, motorcylces, bicycles, boats, trailers and recreational vehicles. Motorcycles or motorized bikes may not be parked inside an apartment unit or on sidewalks, under stairwells, or in handicapped parking areas. We may have unauthorized or illegally parked vehicles towed according to state law at the owner or operator'sexpense if it:
a flat tire or is otherwise inoperable; or
(Car runs. been working on it daily for a week now. all tires are good.)

2) is on jacks, blocks, or has wheel(s) missing; or
(None of these apply)

3) Takes up more than one parking space; or
(nope. just one.)

4) belongs to a resident or occupant who has surrendured or abandoned the apartment; or
(i still live here. my cats and all my stuff is here)

5) is in a handicap space without the legally required handicap insigina; or
(it wasnt)

6) is in a space marked for office visitors, managers, or staff; or
(it wasnt)

7) blocks another vehicle from exiting; or
(it wasnt)

8) is in a fire lane or designated "no parking" area; or
(it wasn't)

9) is in a space marked for other resident(s) or unit(s); or
(it wasn't)

10) is on the grass, sidewalk, or patio; or
(it wasn't)

11) blocks garbage trucks from acess to a dumpster; or
(it wasn't)
12) has no current license, registration, or inspection sticker, and we give you at least 10 days notice tht the vehicle will be towed if not removed
(everything is current, and they didn't)

So my crime was that my car was dirty, and I haven't been driving it lately.

Now, some of you may think "It's just a misunderstanding. I'm sure it will be worked out tomorrow."

Nay, gentle readers. I'm afraid that's not how this tale goes. See, the way I found out was that I contacted the office, and the Office Bitch who worked there provided me, complete with smirk, a highlighted copy of my lease containing the rules and regs listed above. When confronted with the fact that i, and my car, violated exactly ZERO of these stipulations, she retreated into another office, locked the door, and informed me that if I did not depart that the police would be called. I hadn't even yelled yet.




Yes. The Police.



I could breathe fire right now. I am half through a fifth of Jack and about ready to go get what's mine on my own and drive it thru their gorramed office just to show them what's what. I am THAT mad. I am BRICK mad.


One thing is stopping me. Appendix A.




You know, I try to do what's right, I do. I do even when it hurts. I do ESPECIALLY when it hurts, because at least then I can look myself in the mirror and say "That sucked Dave, but you did the right thing."
I pay my bills. No one helps me. I try to be responsible. I try to be an upstanding member of the adult community and contribute my time and effort into helping others, even in the mall on my day off.

Where I did NOT find replacement sunglasses, which is a seperate issue.


I don't even want to talk right now. I'm writing this as a means to vent, or to explain that "Diplomacy has failed, and I may be off the radar for a couple of days trying to take care of some unpleasant business." I hate feeling like this, and I love feeling like this. It's empowering and frightening because it isn't "proper." It isn't what we do in a civilized society. And that's exactly why I love it because it allows me to be defiant. It allows me to be justifiably angry in a world where I don't get that oppurtunity. It tempts me to do the dangerous things that the snarling beast that lives in all our guts tells us that we should even though we know better.
And I do know better.

And I may be calmer tomorrow, but I can't guarantee it.

And somebody is going to get verbally assaulted to the point that they either lose or quit their job. And I'm going to do it without cursewords, too.


I'm tired, and i'm angry, and my skull is splitting, and my upsetedness over this has killed my appetite. It feels like the world wants a fight, and all I want to do right now is to get shitfaced drunk and give them what they want.

Am I better than that though?

To the dismay of the beast in my gut, I am.