I Am So Sorry I Had The Audacity To Park Next To You

Dedicated to that Jerk-wad I met at work today



Woe is me. My crimes against God, against humanity, and most importantly, against you are more than my conscience can bear. It is with a heavy heart that I come to you, pleading your forgiveness.



You see, I did not realize when I parked my car this morn that the car I was parking next to was yours. For I now know that no living person on this Earth is worthy of parking within 3 miles of your Acura TL, the Holy Grail of the Automotive industry. But let me not dwell on this crime, for as heinous as it is, it pails in comparison of what I did next.



I am most ashamed to admit it, but as I tried to get out of my car, my door accidentally came into contact with yours. Granted that the force of the hit would not have been enough to bend the leg of a daddy long-leg spider, but this does not matter. It was my fault, my most grievous fault, that my door even came within an inch of yours. I have no real excuse for my actions. None except you were parked so far over the line, I needed a sunroof to get out of my car. But that is your right, since you own that parking lot, the building I work in and the entire city of Newport Beach. You do don't you?



I beg forgiveness. I did not know your car had a paint job as delicate as spider's silk; so delicate that the mere movement of air around your car causes the paint to scratch. I am sorry. I foolishly thought that you did not care for your paint job, seeing as how you made no attempt to actually park even remotely within the lines of your parking spot. I give a thousand apologies.



Yes, you are right to berate me for my carelessness. From now on I shall carry a blow torch in my car so I can cut off the roof should I ever park next to someone who is so inept at parking that I can't open my door to the point where I can get my leg out.



What? No, that was not an insult. I know that you have much greater things to do than practice a silly thing like parking your car. Things which I could not possibly comprehend the importance or complexity of. And I know that parking in these spots is a very difficult task, what with it involving driving in a straight line.



Please, tell me what I can do in recompense for my crimes. I know I would never fully be able to atone for my sins, but my heavy heart demands that I pay some tribute. I offer my services as your chauffeur. It is not much, I know, but it is all I have. And at least I know what those white stripes in parking lots mean, so this type of horrible tragedy might not ever occur again.



Now, I beg your pardon, but I am off to don sack-cloth and ashes and fast for forty days in attonement for my wrong-doing.