Straw Ten – The Parking Problem

In November, it became louder in my parents’ neighborhood, as more persons evidently started staying at the POJ family’s home for extended visits. This meant, naturally, even more strange vehicles. My parents took to contacting me at all hours, as the noise and the stench were keeping them up at night.  

And yes, Officer, I said stench, as there were more parties and more people camping outside, despite the colder conditions. They would at times, you see, there would be bodily functions performed.  Cleanliness was apparently not a strong suit for many of these persons.  

As for the vehicles, they were numerous. Many of them were very loud. I believe that means that a necessary component known as a muffler is missing? Plus there was some racing and revving of engines at all hours. My mother informed me that there were several such races down the street, and the lady of the house would often collect monetary reimbursement, perhaps for providing a place to sleep or maybe for providing a place to compare the speed of the various and sundry vehicles. The purpose and meaning of all of these payments remains elusive to us to this very day. 

When Thanksgiving arrived, my parents’ vehicle was again blocked in, so I gathered up my children and drove them there. I noticed that, when we exited my minivan, the man of the POJ family house approached my daughter and began speaking directly to her. My daughter informed me later that a business proposal was made, and that she could earn some afterschool money. While I don’t enjoy speaking with my ex-husband, as that inevitably means that I have to engage the F-L-O-O-Z-Y in casual conversation, I did tell my daughter not to agree to anything until her father and I could discuss the matter in a calm and rational manner.  

As for my son, he again borrowed the birding binoculars, even though all of the blue-winged warblers had flown south for the winter! I noticed him gazing at the POJ family home, and so naturally I praised him for keeping a vigilant eye on our neighbors. After all, neighbors look out for one another. Isn’t that right, Officer?  

As we sat down to grace and a fine turkey dinner, with all of the trimmings and some extra glasses of sherry for myself and my parents, we heard all manner of automobile noises coming from outside. You see, when the POJ family had extended their driveway, they had created a bit of a side flat surface, which was wide enough for, perhaps, two vehicles. Then there was the driveway itself. Although they had a two-car garage – everyone in that neighborhood does – it was not used for vehicles. I have only been able to look into it one time since the POJ family moved in, and it appeared to be used for storage of all manner of electronic equipment. I saw a lot of television sets and stereo systems in there before the garage door was closed, as I recall.  

But I’m meandering a bit. It was Thanksgiving, as I previously stated, and we heard cars. There must have been lots and lots of them. And so my parents and I went outside. Standing on their driveway, we could see that the POJ family was attempting to move some of the many automobiles that were in the area. One of these was the El Camino. But their driveway was blocked, and it appeared that the keys for at least one of the blocking vehicles could not be located.  

And then the next thing I saw was truly outrageous. The El Camino was driven over the curb, on the side, where the swath of green had been between my parents’ property and the POJ family’s.  There was mud there because, ever since the petunias were pulled up, and the back hoe – oh, there’s that dirty word again – was used, that area had just been a pile of mud when it rained and a cloud of dust when it didn’t. And so the El Camino was driven, on the muddy remains of the lawn, down a small hill, to the other house. The mud kicked up and got all over my mother’s nice house dress and my daughter’s clothing as well. My stars! I had no idea that my daughter knew such language! 

After their garments were cleansed, of course I washed my daughter’s mouth out with soap. Once that most necessary activity was concluded, we all had pecan pie.