At a total loss for words

So there are pictures.

My Driveway With Police Car

My Driveway With Police Car

If you’ve read this blog before, you already know how much trouble fun we have with having it be distinguished from a parking space.  I believe the picture above shows, quite clearly, that this is an unambiguous, clear, driveway.  Now:

Actual parking place behind Police car

Actual parking place behind Police car

Okay then.  As I stand in the driveway flapping my arms in frustration and stamping my foot, I notice the following.   No gas leak, no fire, no flood, no crazy person screaming, no loud music, no live gunfire, no knives, no one down.   No visible Police Officer.  In fact, no nothing.  Late afternoon, curbs empty because people haven’t gotten home from work.   Lots of parking everywhere, in short, including up the street where the (non)incident actually was(not).   A driveway exists at that residence, did I mention that?

So.  There I am, as usual, rushing off to something and guess what?  I can’t get out of my own driveway because it is being blocked by a police car. I was totally dumbfounded.  A police officer couldn’t figure out how not to park in a driveway?  In a non-emergency, no shooting,  situation,  surrounded by parking?   Especially parking that involved simple use of the reverse gear before exiting the vehicle?  Gentle Reader, I can come to no other conclusion than this.  I have the DRIVEWAY FROM HELL.

Other concerns are raised by the rest of the story, of course.  Remember, it’s me.  Not enough to just feel my blood pressure rise.  This parking contretemps extended for over 45 minutes.  I took a walk to cool off and when I came back the car was still there.  Forty five minutes.  Would this not indicate to you that this was a non-emergency?  Other police cars just then arrived on the scene, plus a meat wagon.  I asked one of the arriving officers if they could please move the car.  I suppose I should be relieved that he didn’t say, it’ll just be a few minutes because, well I couldn’t blog from jail I bet.  No, he said, in this order,  (1) I didn’t park it, and (2) (with that Police-ly squint) We may be dealing with a dead body here.  I am bleeding, Gentle Reader, from the bite marks on my lips.  Meanwhile, driver of said meat wagon emerges from the back of it with some honking big metal cutters.  Still everything is dead quiet.  So.  My neighbor wanders over, and after saying, Gee I thought YOU were getting arrested.  Or that girl next door to you.  You’re both pretty wild, he recounts the truth of the matter.

Which is, an elderly lady missed a doctor appointment.  Doctor calls police, then landlord.  Nothing is wrong.  Nothing at all.  They wound up not having to take the bolt cutters to the front door because guess what?  The landlord, who lives next door (a duplex), shockingly enough has a key. I don’t know about you but I am impressed with the mental dexterity it took to hold that development off for an hour.  Possibly the order of the phone calls.  I don’t know.

All I know is this.   1) I see purse snatchings and dangerous speeding on the street and I can’t get anyone to come and deal with it.  Much less three.  Also, I am not sure how qualified someone who can’t even not park in a driveway in a non-lethal force or dangerous situation is to be a Police Officer.  There’s some attention and judgment missing there.

2) Sadly, I think I have to admit I live in a parallel universe.  There just isn’t any parallel parking there.  Just the entrance to never-never land I mistakenly thought was my driveway.

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