The line was slow because some fat asshole with an arm
full of shitty polyester golf shirts was berating one
of the employees about: what a crappy job they did; how
they always do a crappy job; and how he has had enough
of their crap. He then proceeded to storm out. I paid
for my cleaning, turned to leave, and WHOA – asshole
was standing in the doorway. He was taking up the
whole door.
He decided to make a stand right there and demand to
know "who-in-the-Hell" parked so close to his Jaguar. I
tried to excuse myself and get around him. He ignored
me, and demanded (louder this time and right over my
head) to know what the Hell was going on with this
parking situation.
When a harried soccer-mom admitted to owning the van
next to his Jag, I pushed Asshole out of the way as he
moved in on her. Once outside, I noticed that the Jag wasn't
parked between the lines. He was way over – into her
space.
If I ever see that Jag again, I’m slashing the tires.