Patience and restraint

Let me set the stage for the letter above. It is Valentine's day, and Saeeda and I decide to go to the Second City theater in Chicago to watch some good comedy (Second City is where many of today's popular comedians got their start). This being the city, parking is a pain, and so we find ourselves following a street sign that says "Second City Parking." Except that, this being the city, the sign leads to a parking structure that gives cars barely any maneuvering room. We see signs for "Guest Parking" and follow the ramps up to the very top floor, park our car, and leave to enjoy the show.

Upon returning later that night, we find that access to this top floor is no longer available from the parking structure. We ask the clueless night attendant, who casually tells us that we parked in the wrong place. Second City parking, as the fading, barely visible, bent-out-of-shape sign clearly states, is on the ground floor. It is freezing cold, Saeeda is pregnant, and I now need to find someone to let me into what turns out to be resident parking for an adjacent building.

Long story short, I manage to get in, and get to the car. And I discover this lovely letter stuck in my windshield wiper. Let us deconstruct this letter together:

"I hope you have enjoyed my parking spot because you will never park in it again."

A strong, bold statement that sets the tone of the message right away. Sinister, because it doesn't quite state how I will be decapitated should I park in that spot again. Sarcastic, because of the "I hope you have enjoyed ..." Brilliant.

"You are welcome for my incredible patience and restraint"

More sarcasm, because I am supposed to be overwhelmed with gratitude at this point. And here's the most poignant part of it all - the writer is declaring their angelic nature by describing their incredible patience and restraint. Incredible, I tell you. Incredible.

Now let us step back for a moment. In sub-zero Chicago winter weather, some sorry, sad, sod of a person took the time to find quality lined paper and a good pen to neatly channel their rage into a two sentence message to me - a stranger who mistakenly parked my car in their spot because of a lack of proper signage. In all fairness, the garage had such low ceilings and tight turns that a tow truck would never be able to get in there to move my car. Which means that the person whose spot I took had nothing they could do about the situation, other than to try to convince me of their incredible patience and restraint that stopped them from ... what? Keying my car? Breaking in my window?

Some people just need to take a deep breath and relax before they put pen to paper.