At 25, I was a half-orphan as my father had just died a few weeks prior. I was living in San Francisco, and I had saddled myself with my oldest brother's car. Norm -- yeah, that's his real name, but no snickering 'cause he was named after my dad -- was stationed in Turkey and as the person who had been taking care of his car while he was overseas had just up and died, I volunteered to keep it until his return in November.
Do you know what it's like to have a car in the city and not have a garage? Hell, baby. It's hell. I almost never used it, really, except to move the damn thing on street cleaning days to avoid getting a ticket or having it towed.
One night, I went out with the car. [I couldn't get a real date. Heh.] Returning at about 9:30 p.m., I circled and circled an ever-increasing radius of streets near my apartment. No one was leaving. Everyone was obviously buckled in for the night. After close to 20 minutes, I found one. SCORE!
I pulled in front of it, blinker on, threw it into reverse and started to parallel park. Only to be stopped by another car who began pulling into it. WTF? WTBMFF?
I signaled to him. I yelled to him something along the lines of, "Hello, I was here first." I could see in the rearview mirror that the woman in the passenger seat was commanding him not to give up the space. He seemed willing to do the right thing. That bitch wasn't. In the end, for him, I suppose the promise of sex that evening trumped any gumption he might have had to do what was right.
He managed to wheedle his way in, without me budging. Then they got out of the car, locked the BMW, and walked away. I got out of my car and yelled, "Are you just going to walk away and leave me next to your car?"
They didn't even glance back.
I keyed the entire length of the car.
I was driving my brother's piece-of-crap Escort with Texas plates. I could have cared less if they'd done the same to it.
Looking back these many years later, I have to say I'm rather ashamed of myself.
But I also have to say I would SO do it again.
[Now, head on over to Sunday Scribblings and read fine, upstanding people's accounts of "key."]