Being a home owner is pretty dope, even when things kind of suck, like having to bourdon both the price and effort of repairs and maintenance. As a condo owner, there are less of those responsibilities than that of different types of homeowners, like those in townhouses (or row houses, as they are often referred to in Baltimore) or single-family homes. The lessening of load on condo ownership comes with a tradeoff, as one might expect, where you also lessen your agency over your own dominion. I think for many people, this actually makes condo living a pretty damn good option for home ownership. You don’t have to both with cutting the grass. The water should always be on in the building. There are also facilities to wash clothes.
For me over the last decade or so, and maybe a while after still, it works out OK. But the inconvenience can really be a bit much.
This week the inconvenience comes at me twice, and in a way that is destined to repeat. The condo association has opted to repave the parking lot. I couldn’t possibly fathom why, the parking lot is perfectly fine and could stand at least another two years, barring the type of destruction it saw a few years ago from some rather reckless amateur snow ploys following some unexpected snowfall. Repaving the parking lot means everyone living here has to park on the street, which isn’t really that big of a deal. It’s further a walk for me, sure, probably takes me a few more minutes. But it’s not like it’s a mile or something, and I could always use the exercise, even if I weren’t as fat as the queen of see cows, which I suppose I am not currently, but only just barely.
The inconvenience compounds with outside factors, in this case somewhat literally… which is a silly turn of phrase I didn’t intend, but here we are. I live across from a school which, since these are the summer months, should mean this isn’t really all that big a deal, except that modern schools are also modern playgrounds and modern amateur sports fields, and the summer time is a great time for amateur sports playing. With kids out of school comes summer sports camps and summer pee-wee sports leagues, and no-one on Earth seems to have solved the modern problem of parking, so street parking on our otherwise fairly quiet street during peak-kids-sportsing has become crowded. So crowded that I have, in years past with situations like this, actually had to park on another street. That’s a lot of fun. Granted, when I’ve lived in cities, the parking was much worse but… come-on, trade-offs, right? For having to park in another neighborhood, you get to have incredible culture, education, dining, and so much more. We’ve got good education here, but our culture sucks and… man, I could really go on and on, but let’s not today. Needless to say, nothing we have here is worthy of fucked up parking. And instead of jammering on and on about our suburb problems…
Let’s compound this inconvenience a little further, shall we? About a year or two ago, I was parking on the street for not-too-dissimilar circumstances for quite some while. I was beginning to become accustomed to it, which if I had been paying attention to what that feeling was typically a harbinger of in my life, I would like to think I would have seen the queue and immediately mixed things up, but I didn’t. Instead, after a relatively productive early-morning, I hurriedly approached my car to make my way into the office early only to find that on this day I would not be going into the office at all. Instead, I would be spending a significant portion of my day dealing with the serious problem of having my car bashed the fuck in.
You see, my car being parked on the side of the road left open an opportunity for someone much drunker than my typical self to run into my very parked car causing somewhere around $3,000 worth of damage to a car that was just barely worth more than that. Thankfully, my insurance covered most of that, but they also sought fit to raise my premiums for something I could not have possibly predicted and still managed to charge me a few hundred dollars. Kind of makes you start to understand that crazy-assed stance where insurance is the devil, right?
Although, I suppose, in retrospect I do understand. After all, I have been on that street afterward and seen other street-parked cars also bashed in on various times of year. Different cars, different seasons, but all fresh in the morning. Strange that they always seem to have the same colored paint bashed into them… you’d think that might be a clue for someone, I don’t know, law enforcement or someone? Maybe they might try to color-match that streak across all of our cars against those other cars that frequent that road? Is that crazy talk? Hmm.
So following that mix-up, you might understand now why, much more than simply having to walk my fat-ass up a hill during the sweaty-for-anyone parts of summer, I’m pretty apprehensive of parking my precious car (which I just recently paid off) out there in The Wastes. You know what? Let’s go ahead and compound this inconvenience one last time so you can understand how salty I am.
I’m parked on the street, which is not where I would like to have my car parked at all, because of a repaving of the parking lot. The parking lot doesn’t need repaving, but fine, maybe this will keep it from becoming too similar to the tire-eating streets of Baltimore. Cool. Keep it good. But nobody is paving.
They haven’t paved all week, even though they told me that I not only need to not park in the parking lot, but they also threatened the homeowners by way of towing at our own expense. So I’m parked on the fucking street under threat of towing damage to my car to a place I don’t want it to be that I will also have to pay for, and their not even fucking paving the lot? Are you fucking me?
Alright, I need to wrap this up. I’ll report back sometime… next week? Maybe?