What Is WITH Some People?

I'm going to rant for a moment.

We own two cars, and in my neighborhood, it's a fact of life that if you own two cars, one of them will be parked on the street. This is California, after all.

I live with this. It bugs me to come home and find someone parked in my driveway, because, let's face it, since Californians have this love affair going on with their cars (myself included...I admit it), street parking is hard to come by and if my driveway is occupied, then I have to park two cars on the street. Fortunately, this was not the case today.

I only mention the parking problem because of what was the case when I came home.

The only thing I can figure is that the driver of the green Ford F-150 realized that he was too drunk to drive, but this unfortunately also made him too drunk to fully assess the parking situation on my street. He did a great job finding a parking spot big enough for his long-bed Ford...kudos for that, Dude...but he didn't exactly STOP when he got his truck into it.

No.

He kept backing up until his rear bumper was in full contact with my daughter's grill and right headlight.

And since his truck then stopped moving, he must have figured that he was parked, so he threw the truck into Park and grabbed forty winks.

I'm not sure how long he got to nap. Our conversation was pretty short:

Me: [incredulously inspects the area of contact between the two vehicles]

Drunk: [blissfully unaware of said inspection, continues drunken siesta]

Me (angrily knocking on passenger side window): What the f**k? You are parked AGAINST my f**king car!

D: [awakens, startled, then shrugs apologetically and starts truck]

Me (in awe): [stands slackjawed as drunken idiot drives cautiously away]

Who DOES that?

End rant.

I almost immediately felt guilty for inadvertently running the guy off. Clearly, he was inebriated and incapable of driving safely, and I sent him off into rush hour traffic. It's too late now, but San Diego evening commuters, I apologize if any of you get hurt because I (an angry, 6' 2", 300 pound man) scared the crap out of a drunk and sent him out to have a collision with you.

I should be extraordinarily sensitive to this kind of thing; a woman I loved deeply was killed by a drunk driver nearly 16 years ago. If the driver that killed Laurie Patarini had exhibited the kind of sense that my bumper-rubbing siesta taker did, Laurie might still be alive.

Maybe next time I'll be a little less imposing* and a little more understanding.

No, probably not. I don't expect I'll ever feel the need to be nice to people who show such disregard for other people's lives and property.

Please, if you must drive, don't drink. And if you absolutely have to have a drink, don't get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Even to take a nap.

*A friend calls it "presence". Thank you, Ali.