Honk If You Love To Park In Front Of My Driveway
The penchant that some people have to roust friends from their couch potato lairs by leaning on their car’s horn is something that we as a nation should study, I believe. There is much to be learned from our loud, honky neighbors, most importantly how to stop them. Who hasn’t had an otherwise pleasant morning suddenly interrupted by one of their noisy interjections? Perhaps a member of our nation’s roster of unemployed sociologists might look into why these honkers don’t expend a calorie or two by getting out of the cars and making use of doorbells. Tackling this and other pressing sociological questions would, at minimum, begin the process of rebuilding our country’s decaying sociological infrastructure.
The study might also address the tendency of some folks to park in front of other people’s driveways. By “other people’s driveways” I mean mine. The wide expanse of residential streets around my home are free and clear to park as you wish, so it’s confusing why anyone would need to make it impossible for us to quickly exit our property when, say, my wife goes in to labor.
No, my wife is not pregnant. Enough of the rumor-mongering! I was talking about when she goes in to labor at the office. (Or, how about this, “when she goes into the office, to labor at her desk?”) Anyway, you’re missing the point. What if, one day, she gets a kidney stone, or goes into anaphylactic shot from a sudden allergy to sautéed dandelion greens? How can I get her to the hospital at a moment’s notice if you’ve decided to park in front of my driveway instead just a few feet in either direction of it?
I smell a movie script about a middle-aged white guy in a suit and tie who goes off the rails because of honkers and driveway-cloggers. Check your local listings.