To the man who laughed at my parking job:

To+the+man+who+laughed+at+my+parking+job%3A

Hey you, yeah you, Mr. Exasperated Snicker.

I would say good morning, but we both know how my morning went. I bet you had a good morning you sick sick scoundrel. Someone like you probably gets off watching others struggle to survive. What were you smiling at anyway? You’ve never seen a sleep deprived teen take 10 minutes to pull into a parking spot? It’s not my fault these underclassmen are taking all the good spots in the morning. Is it such a crime to be so close to the white line no one else can park next to me? Huh? Is it such a crime to get halfway into a parking spot, know you’re crooked yet spend 5 minutes crouched below the steering wheel for the group of teenage girls to pass before you try to correct it because you don’t want them judging you even though they’ve never driven a day in their life?

What, you think you’re better than me?

“Oh, look at me, all high and mighty because I can reverse into a parking space”

Well, some of us had rough mornings.

You lucky snake, some of us woke up in a pool of unfinished homework, late, only to find out today was the day the weather gods put frost on your windshield even though it’s been frostless for the past week. I bet you’ve never felt the animalistic rage of scraping off the window with your bare hands in the hopes of leaving for your 25-minute drive to school with exactly 20 minutes before the bell rings.

Tell me, have you felt that? Or maybe the embarrassment of explaining to your parents why you were desperately scraping off ice when you could have simply turned the car’s heater on?

Now go on. Continue your pristine path of good driving etiquette. Just know that every single time you ke-ke with your friends about me, there will be one more woman praying for your downfall.