“I can’t believe your neighbor parks in your spot!” shouted my crazy downstairs neighbor’s unpleasant mother yesterday, when she showed up to clean his roach infested hellhole of an apartment, as she frequently does on Sundays.

She was talking about me, of course. I heard her since I was sitting on the porch enjoying the sunny 60 degree weather. That is unusual for February around here.

Her son hears voices and is heavily medicated, so he doesn’t have a car. I think that means his parking spot is officially up for grabs.

Besides, I was only parked in his spot because somebody had already parked in mine.

UPDATE: When I got home today, I parked in my designated spot. I looked over at the numbers painted in the parking lot and realized that during this entire incident, I was actually parked in my OTHER neighbor’s spot. Nobody was parked in the medicated guy’s space AT ALL!