I’m dreaming of a blue Christmas

I always take the higher road, no matter how unjust, horrible, infuriating or cruel the situation and its players.

BUT! Doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about taking the lower road!

Road. Sheer word luck.

Story short, there’s a car that’s a thorn in the side of residents in this subdivision where there’s a SERIOUS shortage of parking. Bad as the Big Apple’s — New York City’s — hence the moniker for La Aldea subdivision: The Big (Rotten) Apple of Arizona.

This car, a Subaru Tribeca with New Mexico plates, is NEVER driven. It is NEVER moved except under threat of towing, as stated on police-issued tags:

“Any vehicle left unattended on a street/highway for 48 hours may be removed by any police officer/employee.”

This has been going on for weeks and weeks and weeks …

Car sits illegally AND takes up priceless parking space. Selfish son-of-a-bitch owner.

He gets tagged only because I call it in.

Moves the car — in one instance, rolled it merely 6 inches for its two flat tires — thereby satisfying the legal requirement that a vehicle must “be moved in a 48-hour period” and evading towing. Selfish clever evasive son of a bitch.

After the most recent tagging one week ago, and after the car had sat with two flat tires for about a month, he put air in and did move it … wait for it  … half a block.

Where it has remained, unmoved and undriven since.


He’s using these streets as his personal garage. What he’s doing is ILLEGAL and so absolutely sickeningly selfish and disrespectful to residents seriously suffering lack of parking that I want to punch his lights out.

No wordplay intended.

The car needs to go.

The car needs to go.

Like I said, I always take the high road despite the deepest of stressors.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about the low road!

All times daily that I pass that car, SITTING THERE, breaking the law, hogging space … I’d like nothing more than to sneak up at night when no one’s around and unscrew those caps and leave him with four flat tires.

It’s that the worst damage that can be inflicted on a car?

Absolutely not.

A more vicious spirit could conjure much worse.

But acts of even minor vengeance — especially when earned, especially when well-deserved and for the good of many — remind me of that fundamental truth:

Karma’s a bitch.

So, enlightened creature that I am, I acknowledge my desire to strike back at this asshole for this problem enduring weeks into months …

and I do the next RIGHT thing.

The higher-road thing.

The legal thing. I contact the police and report the vehicle. Time after time week into week.

The officer had warned me: It can take calling in a car 20 or 30 times before the warned owner slips, forgets to move his car within 48 hours … then buh-bye car hello towing company!

Much as I don’t want it, looks like that’s the path I’m on.

You may be dreaming of a white Christmas. I’m dreaming of a blue one.

Blue as in assistance from the police, yes.

And blue for that vehicle’s owner who finds stuffed into his stocking not a piece of coal but rather a big ol’ impound fee.

A blue Christmas joyous!


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