Dear Guy With the Monster Truck,
You should know that when I parked my SUV in that parking structure this morning (you know the one), I carefully chose a parking spot with plenty of room on either side of it. See, I am aware that I need this room in order to get my children in and out, which requires me to climb in the back and buckle them into and out of their carseats. Now you may not care that I have children, and you may even disdain that I have children (I have to assume that you do not use your Bulldozer Hybrid to transport tiny spawn; with a vehicle like that, I just really doubt you’re a stroller-pushing, little butt-wiping, hand-holding, story-reading dad). But I did try to give you fair warning that I do have children, and several of them at that. Did you not see the rather large family of stick figures parading across the back window of my humble vehicle? Not sure how you could miss it. That, sir, is your cue to give me room if you insist on parking next to me.
Perhaps owning such a glorious specimen of automobile as you own infuses one with the feeling that one is taking charge of things! Taking charge of the road, by God! Taking charge of all parking spaces! Let’s hear it for Taking Charge!
Let me just take this opportunity to set you straight. You may own a grotesquely gargantuan vehicle, but you do NOT own the road, nor are you the King of All Parking Spaces. If you are going to park so close to me that I have to suck in all my breath and mold the natural shapes of my children in order to squeeze all of us into my smaller, reasonable, humble truck, then chances are really good – excellent, in fact – that the paint on your shiny truck will sustain some type of blemish. And under those circumstances, I’m not likely to leave you a note of apology with my contact information should you feel the need to pursue the person who left a ding on your truck and demand restitution.
Have a nice day.
PS: Best of luck with that smaller-than-average penis!