The street I live on never seems to have any parking. And it’s on a hill, which makes it worse. One time I didn’t pull my car up far enough on the curb and someone left a note on my car that said…
How is the
Dont’ take 2
That’s how dire the situation is with the parking. Of course I didn’t mean to take two spots. And they probably didn’t mean to have hilarious broken English. I’d make fun of it more, but whoever wrote the note made me feel like I was El Guapo from Three Amigos, raiding their village of all the hard-earned parking. It’s a frustrating situation for everyone.
Well, three weeks ago, a 21-year-old kid got shot in front of my building. He was in his car. It’s tragic. Friends and family members put up a shrine to him on the spot and blocked off the area with parking cones and police tape. The first week had candlelight vigils and people bringing flowers and signs that said, “I love you, Primo” or “I miss you, Primo” and stuff like that. The second week still had stragglers, but way less people than the first week. We’re now in week three and hardly anybody is coming to see Primo’s shrine anymore. But the shrine is still up and the area is still blocked off.
I’m at a point where I’m starting to wonder just how long the guy gets before people can park there again. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but it has been three weeks.
I’ve been having the conversation with the Shrine Keepers over and over again in my head. And it’s horrible, but this is how it goes…
Me: So… how, uh, long is this thing going to stay up?
Them: What the fuck did you say to me, homes?
Me: I don’t mean any disrespect. But it’s been a while and…
Them: This is for Primo, man!
(getting the courage to stand up for myself)
Me: NO! It’s the parking spot that’s primo.
Almost worth it! What are they going to do, stab me? They better hope I land in Primo’s roped-in area, or that’s a whole other parking spot to be blocked off. Sure, family comes first. But they know how is the parking.