Space.

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Somewhere, out there, is ‘the one’ for me, and tonight I think I came a little closer to finding them.

Second only to my pathological loathing of politicians, is my psychotic reviling of inconsiderate car parkers. Space in Nth Gong is a premium, there is no room for assholism when it comes to parking.

One little entitled upstart has moved in to the units across the road, she parks wherever she pulls up, mastering the art of taking up even three spots in one parking manoeuvre!. I’ve been circling like a shark, round and round, looking for a park, all to no avail, and tonight was the straw that broke the camels toe!

I ended up having to park streets away, I grabbed a pen and paper and STORMED up to her car, but hello, what’s this?, there is already a piece of paper under the windscreen wiper!.

There it was, a missive that was positively scratched into the paper, spelling out concise instructions from another pissed off neighbour on how to park a little more ‘considerately’.

It looked like a guy’s handwriting, at least that’s what I’ve convinced myself. But how do I find this kindred, unhinged spirit?.

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