This working dog just met one of the bigger bitches of DC.
I park at one of the only fairly priced parking garages on M Street. Since they charge about $5 less a day than most other locations near the White House, they are very popular. Add to that, their next door neighbor is the Metropolitan A.M.E. Church (sometimes called "The Cathedral of African Methodism", where Rosa Parks' DC funeral was held), and they have a pretty busy schedule of events, year 'round. This means, the garage is constantly busy and the valets are on an infinite loop, hustling to move cars.
This morning, there was an event at the church, and traffic was hideously backed up. As in, I waited half an hour to get in the garage and then gave up. I can't afford to just park in another lot, as I've paid the discounted monthly rate with these guys, and I'm not wasting cash. On the other hand, being a half hour late to work is not a great option either. I dug around and found a quarter in my purse, which garnered me a whole 15 minutes of metered parking directly in front of my office. The DC Parking Nazis patrol the area on a pretty regular basis, so I knew at 9:45 I had to run back down and try my garage again.
Okay, I got back down at 9:46. And damned if I didn't see the local Parking Nazi checking the next car down. I hopped into the Crapmobile before I could be ticketed and drove down to L Street to cut over to 15th and back up to M and the garage. (Man, somedays I hate these one-way streets.) But 15th Street was seriously backed up. It took me four light cycles to get on the street for my one-block trek back to M. Turns out, the 15th Street back-up was a direct result of the continuing back-up at my garage. To be honest, people were being mighty patient. Very little honking, folks just waiting in line. As I was about to take my turn entering the garage, a gold Lexus pulled up next to me and the driver interjected herself into the queue and into my path.
Then, she stopped her car halfway into the garage drive, turned the engine off, opened her door and just sat there. Considering that I'd now invested an hour in the parking process, I yelled at her to move. The valets yelled at her to move. Other drivers yelled at her to move. But she didn't budge.
That would have required removing her poodle from her lap and getting off the damn phone.
Finally, I put hand to horn and yelled again. The valet rapped on her window. And, at last, she got a clue and moved.
I got my valet stub, and I waited for her. I really wanted to ask this woman a question. So, when she finally left the comfort of her luxury boat, I confronted her.
She was, I would guess, about 55. Dyed blond Washington helmet head hair. Face lift, eyes just a little too tight, pencil thin brows just a little too high, ultra-thin, unhuman nose job, too much perfume, blood red lipstick. Her aging, trim figure was covered in an overpriced black "I'm rich and on my day off" track suit, bathed in gold chains, all wrapped in a fur-trimmed parka. The poodle at her feet wagged its entire backside, seemingly oblivious to the idiocy and rudeness of her mistress.
"Excuse me!" I called out as she tried to be invisible, walking by. "Can ya just tell me what makes you more important than everyone else here? How is it you're such a VIP that you didn't have to wait in line like everyone else?"
Blondie stopped, the cell phone still glued to her head. I raised my eyebrows. "I'd really just like to know, considering how long we all waited to get in here."
She rolled her eyes, sighed, and pulled the phone away from her ear. "I'm busy!" she announced and pulled at the poodle's leash, turning away from me and heading for the street.
"So are we," I heard someone mutter from another car.
"I have things to do," Blondie hissed, returning to her call.
"Self-entitled jackass!" It left my mouth before I even realized I'd said it. I get so sick of the "I Am Important" bull of DC.
Yeah, I shouldn't have said it. But, damned if I'm going to let some dumb cluck not know that, even if she thinks we're lesser beings, we groundlings have got her number. And it's zero.
I hope the valets fart in her car.