All is quiet in this snapshot. Not so much the other day when there was a little bit of a life drama underneath the pipes and asbestos. With an ending that was truly unexpected.
It was Saturday and I had come back from some morning errands. The cleaners, the gas station, and the super market. In tow with me was a half gallon of ice cream. The latter plays into the plot.
I pulled through the gate to discover that there was a car parked perpendicular to mine and several other spots. You can see space # 15. This gray Mercedes was parked in such a way that it blocked access to #15, my space, and the one on my car's left.
The car was locked and nobody was around.
Hmmm.
I pulled off to the side and waited for about five minutes. Nobody came down to claim the gray Mercedes.
With French Silk ice cream getting soft, I went upstairs and stored my groceries. Ten minutes later, I went downstairs to find the gray Mercedes still there.
Hmmm.
Since I know that the sound of car alarms in the garage can rifle through the entire building, I decided to hit my car horn. For a very long minute.
Nothing.
Another minute of horn blaring.
Nothing.
Meanwhile, it's Saturday afternoon and everybody in the building is obviously relaxing. And not moving.
I remembered a few e-mail blasts from the head of the homeowners association. I had saved copies of several. I parked my vehicle in a guest space, went upstairs and pulled an old e-mail down. I hit "reply to all" so I could communicate with everybody in the building all at once.
"Whoever has the gray Mercedes with License Plate Number ########, please move your car. It is blocking access to several parking spaces."
Ten minutes passed and then the offending tenant replied to all.
"I am sorry, Len. I will move my car now."
No further explanation was offered. And I was a little pissed not to get more information.
Until five minutes later...
An e-mail came in from the same tenant. This time, a reply just to me.
"I am so sorry, Len, for your inconvenience. I didn't realize my car was parked that way. My wife put it there. She is in the early stages of Ahlzeimer's."
Oh.
I felt bad for making a big scene out of this small little drama. The pain this man must be going through. The anguish at having to write such a note.
I wanted to respond as kindly as I could.
"I am so sorry to hear that. Thanks for responding so quickly."
I left it at that.
But I wanted to add.....
"I hope you're going to take over her car keys soon."
Easier said by me. Harder done by him.
Dinner last night: Leftover Chinese chicken and vegetables.
2 comments:
Just when you think you're having a shitty day, you find out someone else is having one much worse.
I hope he does take her keys, but it may not be easy. It took quite an effort for my family to take away my father's keys (same reason), and he's still bitter about it.
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