Nice Parking Job, Dick

Sean Leonard exited the highway and turned sharply onto a poorly-cemented road on the campus of Yarborough University. Living at home while going to school meant an hour long drive round trip every day, but Sean’s parents put more stock in saving money than in practicality, so on campus residence was out of the question. Tedious drive aside, Sean didn’t mind much.
“Better than no college and a life working at Mickey D’s,” he mused, admiring his pimply, poorly-shaved face in the rearview mirror, “at least they’re paying for the gas.” He chuckled at the irony, which was sadly lost on his regrettably shortsighted parents.
After a short drive down the bumpy road (which did nothing to help his already out of shape red Ford pickup), Sean took a right and pulled into the Honors College parking garage. Not that Sean was actually in the Honors College, by any means; it was just the closest parking area at the moment.
“Not like anyone’s gonna check anyway,” Sean said, snickering as he drove up to the second floor. His dull grey eyes glanced briefly at the clock, just long enough for his brain to register the time: 12:33.
“Shit!” Sean spat “Late again! I really thought I could get here on time if I skipped a shower! How in the hell do those kids with early classes do it?”
Sean scanned the garage frantically for a place to park, his eyes falling upon an open space next to a spotless blue Mercedes-Benz. Sean sped forward and rammed his pickup into the spot, missing the Mercedes by a few inches but failing to park between the faded yellow lines that served to delineate one space from another. Lacking the time and the will to reexamine his parking job, Sean grabbed his old, moth-eaten backpack and made a mad dash for the stairs.
“Oh, Dr. Parker is gonna be really pissed this time!” he muttered under his breath as he flung his backpack over his shoulder and ran to his English class in hope of some reprieve from his professor.

Sven Godfrey slipped a few graded papers neatly into a light blue folder as he marched across campus towards the parking garage, eager to get home so he could prepare for dinner with his family at his favorite five star Italian restaurant. A gust of wind ruffled his carefully-combed strawberry blond hair, eliciting a grimace from the boy’s blemishless face.
“Damn, not again!” he cursed, holding the folder in one hand as he sought to mend at least part of the damage the wind had done to his style, “first that girl makes an awkward attempt to talk to me, then some idiot makes off with one of my pencils, and now this! What else could possibly go wrong?”
Sven quickened his pace, careful to avoid open areas not flanked by buildings from which the wind could further assault him, as well as taking measures to avoid the large amount of dirt piled on the sides of the roads. After an approximately five minute walk, he had managed to reach the Honors College parking garage.
“Finally,” he exclaimed, “I thought I was never going to get out of that mess! I may need to contact the Yarborough administration about how bad of shape this campus is in!”
After ascending a flight of stairs (“There’s no way in hell I’m taking that disgusting elevator!”), Sven came upon his freshly-polished blue Mercedes Benz.
“Ah, my pride and joy! I can finally relax now that—what in the hell is this!?”
For parked precariously close to his beautifully parked Mercedes was an old, scratched up red Ford pickup, so close in fact it was obvious that entering through the driver’s side door would be impossible. Sven’s face turned nearly as red as the offending truck’s paintjob.
“Who the hell parks like this?!” he shrieked, eliciting a weird look from a girl a few parking spaces down, “Oh, he will not hear the end of this!”
After carefully setting his things in the back seat of his car (from the side he could access, that is), Sven zipped open his backpack, took out a black pen and paper from a well-organized binder and wrote a short note as neatly and furiously as he could before folding it into a perfect square and sliding it under the beat up Ford’s windshield wipers.
“Jackass can suck on that, given he can even read” he snarled. And with that, after arranging his items as best he could, what with the limits imposed upon him, good ol’ Mr. Godfrey climbed awkwardly through the passenger’s side door and drove off to meet his family for dinner.

         Later that day, Sean Leonard was walking back to the parking garage from his last class, glad to have made it through the day unscathed.
“Thank God English was cancelled today,” he sighed, looking down at the paper he held in his hands marked with a big red “A” at the top, “today turned out pretty well after all.”
Soon enough he was back at the parking garage. He decided to take the elevator this time around, feeling he had earned the privilege to save his legs the trip up the stairs. He got out at the second floor and walked to where his Ford pickup was parked, no longer surrounded by cars. As he threw his backpack and paper into the backseat, Sean noticed a neatly folded piece of notebook paper tucked carefully under the windshield wipers.
“Oh that’d better not be some kind of ticket,” Sean said, remembering he was illegally parked in the Honors garage, “Mom and Dad’ll be pissed if they have to pay for more than tuition and gas.”
Sean took the paper out, sighing as he did, unfolded it and began to read the unusually neat handwriting thereupon:
Nice parking job, dick.
I especially loved the how I had to climb in through the passenger side door because you are incapable of parking between the lines.
Sean took a quick look at his truck, noting its position relative to the parking space. So it was a few inches over the line. Surely it couldn’t have caused anyone that much trouble.
“Psh, that’s it?” Sean said as he tossed the note nonchalantly to the floor and went on with his life. He climbed into his car, backed out (running over the note as he did), and began his sojourn home.