As I arrived at the bus stop this morning there was a car sitting in front of one of the nearby townhouses that runs a daycare. Each morning, several families drop off small children while I wait for the bus.
Moments later, out of the townhouse came a guy I’ve known for years (although, to my shame, I’ve long-since forgotten his name) who used to ride the bus with me. He now usually commutes with his wife all the way into DC.
“I’m going to the Metro station if you’d like to ride with me,” he said, so I jumped into his car. He explained that he had to stay late and so was driving separately from his wife. The ride to the Metro was pleasant and I was about ten minutes early. Nice.
When we arrived at the station he went to park in one of the very crowded lots, rather than a garage. Ahead looked to be an empty space but when he pulled up, the car in the spot next to it was parked at an angle, thus making the empty space too narrow. “Jerk,” I’m thinking.
He grumbled a bit and then, to my surprise, said, “Hey, I can fix this.”
At first I thought he was going to try to squeeze into the narrow spot, a scenario that would not have ended well. Then, as he got out of the car, I’m thinking he’s going to key the offending vehicle or try to push it out of the way. To my racing mind, this commute has suddenly gotten very troubling.
“It’s my wife’s car,” he explained.
He straightened her car and took the adjacent space.
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