Post-it bandit strikes

Dear Self-Appointed Parking Police,

Thank you for the wonderful note left under my windshield.

I found your penmanship amazing and your passive aggressiveness inspiring.

I had no idea my car was capable of occupying two spaces at the same time, and I’ll make sure it never happens again.

I’m also proud of you for remembering “(your) first parking job,” and I tried following your example and informing others of their parking infractions.

However, my results weren’t as pleasant.

After waking up at 6:00 a.m., I traveled through the streets of Milledgeville, Post-its in hand, awestruck by the criminal acts.

Bicycles zoomed through crosswalks ignoring the signs.

Students stole employee parking, which caused class cancellations, and inappropriate window messages distracted drivers.

Within the first hour, I ran out of Post-its, and within the first day, Wal-Mart did too.

However, the job was done, and lives were forever changed, especially the girl who didn’t take the wall of sticky notes off her windshield before driving.

However, on my second day of pointing out my peers parking selfishness, something unusual happened.

A young man in a spiked collar and skull jacket parked his motorcycle in a handicap spot. I caught him as he entered the bar, and Cobra, which I assume was his stage name, agreed to move his bike, which didn’t surprise me.

However, the four mile chase and never-ending rain of bullets was somewhat shocking.

Before he ran out of ammunition he successfully shattered two windows, destroyed three parking meters and murdered one child, who was stealing quarters from the broken meter. Had the child not been a thief, he would’ve lived.
Luckily, someone left his horse tied to a bike rack, and I quickly mounted the majestic stallion and traveled to the outskirts of town.

Our auburn manes glistened in the Georgian breeze as Cobra caught us and parked his motorcycle in two open spaces. He turned his bike off and called me over for a chat.  Since he didn’t know my name, Cobra kindly referred to me as “Prick with the Post-its.”

However, before I reached him, a Wal-Mart truck carrying a fresh batch of sticky notes zoomed into the second spot occupied by his bicycle. He died instantly.

The office supplies were covered in plastic, which let the blood slide off and left them usable for upstanding citizens such as yourself.

As the police arrived, I couldn’t help but think that without your note I also could’ve been crushed by a semi.

Thank you. However, I wanted to warn you some citizens don’t appreciate constructive criticism, and as we both know it’s very hard to find stallions on weekdays.

I implore you to be more careful with the notes you leave because if they lands in the wrong hands, a child could die. Godspeed, and I hope you also receive the blessing of an anonymous note that changes your life.

Comedic as always,
Steve Holbert

Posted by Steve Holbert on Sep 15 2011. Filed under Opinion. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.