In any case, I'd prefer dead to dwarves.* / by vanessa

At work I park my car in a behemoth garage.  On Wednesday morning I suppose I could have kept driving up levels, but I found a spot that looked big enough for my small-ish SUV.  To my left was a Bronco parked unnecessarily close to the right-most bounds of his space.  Whatever.  I pulled into the spot, then corrected.  I took care when I got out not to hit Scrooge's door.  It was a tight squeeze.  Yeah, I could have switched places, but I made it, you know?

Anyway, I'm going somewhere with this.
Here's what I had on my windshield when I returned to my car that night:

Dude, I'll say it - I was kinda pissed.  Bronco, oblivious to his own miserly parking job, left an anonymous note, which meant that I wouldn't be able to share the obvious irony with him.   I put the note in my passenger seat and drove home.  

Last night, when I was cleaning out my car I picked up the note and noticed that it had another side to it.

And this is when I became really sorry I didn't get the chance to meet Bronco.  Awesome.  Bronco wrote me a citation!  Like, filled it out an everything.  I delighted in the idea that I annoyed the type of person who a) actually buys novelty notepads and then b) uses them in all seriousness.  I wondered what other kinds of notepads were in his glove compartment.  
Dear ____, 
I hate you because: 
[  ] You broke my heart in 7th grade.
[  ] I wanted that last cupcake.  I never get the last cupcake.
[  ] Mom liked you more.
This morning I posted the citation on facebook because it seemed funny to me.  I liked thinking about what kind of person Bronco could be.  Turns out, uhh, like some of my yoga friends.   It just keeps getting better.

*Jorge Luis Borges
P.S.  I'm sick.  That's why I'm blogging on Saturday night.