When I was younger, I was the perfect sucker. If you sold me a lemon, I'd suck it, even if I'd actually asked for an orange. Even today, if a product is faulty, I prefer to coerce the hubby into returning it. But every now and then my inner grump is let loose. Usually it involves computers or technology. I've gotten very good at complaining to telecos.
Tonight it involved a tow truck. Parked across my driveway.
I left the house this morning at 9:45am to go to choir. I went straight from choir to a contract job. I left work at 6pm. I stopped at the shops for dinner (don't shoot me). As I waited at the intersection across the road from home, I noticed flashing lights. It appears there was an accident at the next intersection down. I realised that a tow truck was parked right across my driveway.
As you face the road from the house, my driveway is on the far right of our property. The driveway of neighbour to my left is on the far left of their block. (Remember if you don't drive on the left-hand side of the road, you have turn these things around in your head to make sense ;-) ) The accident was a further three houses down the road. There is nothing between my driveway and the neighbour's driveway. And the block next to our neighbour is vacant - as in no house, long grass, resident snakes. It doesn't even have a driveway.
I pulled in behind the tow truck and flashed my lights. No response. I honked my horn. No response. I got out of my car and walked around to the driver's door. No driver. He's wandered up the street to check out whether he can make money out of someone else's misfortune. And left his dirty great big truck in front of my driveway.
I was tempted to walk up to the accident and ask a police officer to fine the driver. It is, after all, an offence to block a driveway. But I decided the police were probably attending to more important issues than my grump.
Just as I finish writing a "polite" note to leave on the windscreen, I noticed the driver walking back to his truck. He's a little bigger than me, just by a fraction. And his truck was a little bigger than my car. I stowed my note. He didn't even notice me and my car behind his truck. Not a wave, not anything.
My grump, which had been temporarily quietened by our difference in size, roared into life again. I rang his company. I complained. I was polite, but I was obviously a grumpy old woman in full flight. I figure they have identifying number plates on their trucks for a reason. I hope Mr Tow16 from 131Tow learns to look for driveways. And I hope he's grateful I only reported him to his boss, and not the police.