Thursday, September 13, 2012

The tale of 4F.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Cross eyed mosquitoes & Bowlegged Squirrels:
I tell you a tale, this story is true!
...I don't remember how the rest goes. I am old.
But seriously, the following events totally happened to me, and it led to some very frustrated rants toward Aiden's Papaw/Aiden's GaGa/various Seeestors/anyone who would listen.

I signed my lease to my apartment on August 31st.
It was on this very day that I stepped in, looked around, and quite appreciated what I saw.
The apartment manager lady, we'll call her Alice, told me to check back with her regarding where I should park.
I agreed, I was entitled to a place to park. Covered parking is one of the many amenities included in my 12 month apartment lease. Other amenities include a swimming pool and a fitness center. And now you want to be my best friend. It's fine. Come on over. Call first though. I frequently walk around in my underwear.
I'm kidding.
Now, enjoy the rest of your day wondering if I just told the truth or not.
Hanyway, she told me to park in 4F, and I smiled and nodded, and noted the parking space in my "Notes" app in my cell phone.

The next day was moving day. While pulling the truck around with Aiden's Papaw, I notice a maroon volvo parked in 4F!
I think, "OHMYGOODNESS, one of two things has gone horribly wrong here!"
I figured that either a) the volvo was an asshole who just parked in a random place, or b) I noted the wrong parking space.
I decided not to write the volvo off as an asshole just yet.
I could park in an uncovered spot for a weekend, right?
So I did.
The volvo stayed in my space all weekend long.

The following Tuesday (since Monday was Labor Day), I called the office to confirm my parking space.
Volvo is an asshole.
Alice said I could write volvo a note, informing him that this spot was taken, and that if he didn't move I could cut him.
I made that last part up...unless you replace the word "cut" with the word "tow".

I never wrote him a note. I decided, instead, to beat him home from work one day.
And that I did.
And the next morning, I had a note on my car:

"Please, please do not park in my parking space."

It was on a yellow sticky note, and it was taped to my windshield.

I called Alice again, to verify again that my little car belongs in 4F.
She said yes.
She told me to let her handle the problem.
So I trusted her to do just that.

Then, Friday night, after dropping Aiden off, I parked in my parking space, went inside to shower and beautify, then came back to my car to meet some friends.
Another note, furiously taped to my driver side window:

"2nd notice. Please don't park in my space, I WILL have you towed."


This time I wrote volvo a note and left it when I got home:

"My sincere apologies. I was told this was my parking space. So. Um. It appears we have a misunderstanding."

I thought surely it was friendly enough and explained that he needed to seek assistance for this matter, just as I had.

Yesterday, I parked in 4F while eating lunch at home.
I ate.
I watched New Girl.
I took my trash out.
I got the mail.
I went back to my car.
I had a huge sticker on my windshield from the apartment manager, Alice, telling me I was illegally parked, and that if I didn't move, I would be cut. (Again, substitute "cut" for "tow")

While trying to pull the sticker off, I called Alice. Again.
I told her that I received a nice sticker present while parking in the space that she told me to park. Three times.
At first, before I explained the fact that she told me to park there, Alice sounded sort of fussy/all knowing, like, "Why is this person complaining when they were in the wrong?"
I explained to her that I just wanted this whole mess sorted out.
I just wanted to know where to park.
I told her where I live.
She took to the parking space assignment page again (4th time, for whoever is keeping count...).
"Oh. I see what happened here."

As it turns out, 4F belongs to two different apartments. According to their sheet.
They told me the wrong place.
Three times.

The good news is:
This is all sorted out, after nearly two weeks of living there.
My REAL spot is closer to my apartment.

The bad news is:
I keep expecting another note on my "real" spot.

And that's my tale.
That totally happened.
But it's over now.
My mazda sits happily in 5E.
For now.


  1. Wow, what a headache. I would just make sure you are covered anytime you have to deal with the manager. Like keep a record of your rent payments somewhere (like the cloud or dropbox). It seems like she could mess up something major without noticing.

  2. Anna, I'm sorry, I love this poem. My Peepaw used to say it all the time. I even used it as a monologue in 8th grade. This is the version I know but there are lots of versions.

    Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls
    Cross-eyed mosquitoes and bow-legged squirrels
    I’ll tell you a tale, this story is true
    Leave the kids at home, bring the whole family too.
    There’s no admission so pay at the door,
    Plenty of seating so sit on the floor.
    One bright morning in the middle of the night,
    Two dead boys got up to fight.
    Back to back they faced each other,
    Took out their swords and shot each other.
    Two deaf policemen hear the noise,
    Came right over to arrest the boys.
    Now if you think this tale is tall,
    Ask the blind man, he saw it all.