It's going to be a long day:
Note how he's moved it from a good place to a bad one since my previous post.
Archive for the 'Driveway-blocking feckwits and piss-poor parkers' Category
Stupid o’clock
The Sun's nowhere near the yard-arm:
I've put a warning shot across the bow.
Triple X
This morning our driveway and our neighbour's driveway were both blocked by this:
After about five minutes of me obviously waiting to get out, the driver moved it out of the way. I told him that I'd be back soon and would need to get back onto our driveway.
Ten minutes later I returned to find that he'd put it back in exactly the same place, so I couldn't get back in.
Five minutes later, after some verbal encouragement, he moved it again. By that time my Mum's car had turned up. I pulled onto the drive and my Mum's car followed me in.
Then the van was put back in exactly the same place yet again, thus blocking in both cars.
More verbal encouragement ensued. The van stayed there for another twenty minutes.
He's gone now. Maybe he's gone to look up some of the words I used as verbal encouragement.
Skills shortage
Successive governments have told us that Britain needs to admit hordes of skilled migrant workers to do the jobs for which we have insufficient home-grown talent.
Clearly we don't train enough native parcel-posting parking-pricks, so we have to import people whose grasp of the English language, manners and road-courtesy leaves much to be desired. That grasp seems to be restricted to the words "I moving, yes?", mumbled in what sounds like a Carpathian accent, and delivered with a free scowl and no contrition. Apparently the skill of noticing huge vacant parking spaces to the left and to the right isn't mandatory:
Kudos for effort
It's an improvement of sorts:
At least she fully-blocked only my neighbour's ingress/egress, I had only her driver's side impeding mine.
To be fair, she put in way more effort than the two who visited here earlier...
I'd answered the front door to a bloke who, while looking straight at the adjacent number-plaque which bears a number that's clearly not 20, proceeded to ask me if this was number 20. If that wasn't enough lunacy, about a minute later he (I think it was the same bloke) had made his way up our side-garden path and was trying to get through our garden gate (the one that's marked "Private"), and when I went out of the back door to accost him for trespassing he proceeded to asked me the same question again! He was an estate agent. I was unamused.
And not five minutes later the postwoman dumped a pile of junk-mail through our door. She was unimpressed at being called back from the other end of the close for me to hand it all back to her. She claimed that she had not noticed our opt-out notice or the sign on our letter-box flap:
One of the junk-mails was from Specsavers, I recommended that she should keep it for herself but I think that she was so unobservant that she couldn't see the irony of it.
So, we've had a fair crop of eejuts already, and it's not even lunchtime. It doesn't bode well for the rest of the week.
Three strikes and he’ll be out
I must admit that I wasn't going to post the first of these pics back on 23rd October because the guy said that he was sorry and that he wouldn't obstruct my driveway again.
But he wasn't true to his word and his apology has been proven to have been empty - today he was back doing it again just as I was about to get in my car to back it out, so in addition to the withheld pic there's another one to accompany it.
Strike One:
Strike Two:
