A brief vignette that pretty much summarizes my life:

A friend and I had finished lunch at Nordstrom’s cafe (deliciousness) and as we were walking back to the car, we saw this:

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Someone had parked like this (my car, IG, is the one in the left) next to me and blocked me in. The someone –apparently named Ryan– was still in view, walking hurriedly in the opposite direction.

“Hey! Is this your car?” I yelled.

“Yeah don’t worry about it; I’ll be back,” said Ryan. He didn’t stop walking. He didn’t even turn around and attempt to look apologetic or even sheepish. He just walked off and left me, my friend, the spectator guy parked on the other side of him, and IG blocked in and staring after him.

We stood like that for a couple of minutes staring after Ryan’s already retreated figure. My friend suggested backing my car out (which may have been possible for an exceptionally good driver who is not me) and parking behind that guy and then walking off as Ryan returned. A little dose of his own medicine (which would only inconvenience the other 100 or so innocent people parked in that aisle– but who cares about bystanders, this is revenge we’re talking about! Cold dishes for errybody!) The spectator guy agreed that this was a pretty good plan.

“Yeah, let him back out,” he said.

I handed over my keys, not entirely certain that Iz could back the car out without hitting anything and still pretty shocked that someone would just leave his car like that. “This is how people get shot on Sundays,” I warned Iz as he started the car.

I pulled out my camera to take a picture just in cases things got completely crazy and i needed proof to get out of jail.

“You puttin’ this on Instagram right now?” said spectator guy (who I am certain was about to ask me for my screen name so he could see the pictures).

Ryan came back at that point; he’d been gone for about 6 minutes.

“You takin’ pictures?”he said as he got into his car and drove off without any further apologies or conversation.

Hmmm, I bet he wants my Instagram screen name too.

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