Long Beach Life

So this is for you Canis, my love. But I have to give the background on the story first, which, you already know. 

Two Sundays ago I drive home to Long Beach and proceed to park my car. Now, normally, I have no trouble parallel parking as that is the only subcategory of parking available on the tight streets of LB. Occasionally I have to try a second time. I do worse when people watch. It's a very particular thing this parallel park. 

Anyways, continue the joke. It's not really a joke at all, but I quote for Canis' benefit, as I have already told her this portion of the story and want to hold her attention. As I was saying. I pull up to this smaller than usual space and proceed to back ever so carefully in between these two cars. Pause. Another condition of my parking process -the window must be down. This enables my head to lean out and judge more objectively the park I am completing. 

Resume. Window down, head out, pulling into space. A guy from across the street starts walking towards me holding his hands about "yeah" far away from each other saying: "You have about this much room." And now I have a witness. If you were paying attention you will remember my parking ability tends to decline at this point. "You need help parking?"

I could allow him the benefit of thinking my bad park was due to his inability at helping, couldn't I? "Yeah, sure, thanks." I start pulling forward to begin Round Two, as I've noticed the curb is neither 6 or 12 inches from the curb. "I have to start over, I'm too far from the curb," meaning, now it's all on you buddy, this next park will represent your expertise at guiding my car. 

"I'm helping you cause that's my car behind you." Ouch. Not only was my pride at parking fatally wounded, not saying it was through the roof before, but in that moment all womankind shuddered at the clear jab at our ability to operate an automobile. 

For that, without waiting for help at all, I deftly pulled so quickly into the space that even James Bond would've been taken aback. Oh yes, ten points for women.

"Oh, um, well, I guess you're good."

"Yeah, thanks for your help." Ha.

He goes back to the bunch of people outside the house across the street, and I gather my belongings and head to my house down the street. 

Two days later, the next time I drive my car, I see a note tucked under my windshield wiper. A number. Followed by "Guy who tried to help you park". Now, I'm all for meeting new people, so of course I give him a call a couple of days later. 

"Hi, I got a note on my car..."

"No way! I can't believe you  called! We were taking bets of whether you would, or my creeper mustache scared you away."

Okay, one, it was way too dark to get a real idea of what Jaret (the guy) looked like, let alone to ascertain that on his face was, in fact, a creeper mustache. Two, he never really got that close to the car as, which I'm now realizing, he probably assumed from my gender that I could very easily run him over. And three, I was parking. If my attention was focused anywhere it was most definitely not focused on the distracting presence of the group of people across the street staring and judging my park job. 

Anyways, this story seems much longer than it's worth probably, but hopefully I've made it interesting enough for you to still be reading. 

My roommate Priscilla and I met up with Jaret and his band mates, they are in a folk band, the next night and it was a rather interesting time. As my story has continued this long I better tie it up quickly. Canis, I'm sorry, but it was way too much fun to talk about how we met, then the night we actually hung out. Here goes the more interesting of points regarding the night.

1. They have a huge T-Rex in their front window. His name is Adam.

2. Not to get confused with the dinosaur, two members of the band are called Adam. 

3. It is still debatable of whether Brett can actually smile, though it is safe to say that Priscilla can run way faster then him, and everybody at the Pike knows he's not very coordinated, due to his face plant right outside the door.

4. Matt, after losing the bet of whether I would call, had to run down the street in his boxers, which he proceeded to do, right past two cop cars with their lights going.

5. Not surprising to the rest of us, Brett was the only one to get pulled over after he turned to follow after Matt - Brett's a redhead. Apparently there is some prejudice. I am excluded from this as I am not natural. LB police can tell this from afar.

6. The Penny Saver is an excellent means to starting a bonfire.

7. Balloon animals, on the other hand, are not.

8. But balloon animals are a means of making an amazing bonfire with music even better.

Okay, I think that's the end. I've rambled on quite long enough, and I'm not even sure if anyone is still reading. Hope you enjoyed a little slice of Long Beach Life.