No Parking

Yesterday morning I woke up a little before 9, which is typical for me on a Sunday. I put on some clothes so I could take the dog out. She did her #1 in the back yard, then we proceeded down the driveway for her morning stroll 'n' sniff around the block. When we got to the end of the driveway, there was a car parked across it, blocking our car in. There was empty space behind the car along the curb, but I had no way of knowing if it had been that way overnight. I took the dog on her walk as I thought about how to respond.

There is no shortage of parking in this neighborhood. Just about every house has a driveway, the few apartment buildings have their own lots, and there are no permits or stickers, so anyone can park anywhere on the streets. Our landlord deemed that the tenants of the first-floor apartment (that's us) have exclusive use of the driveway and garage, probably because that's how it was when they lived in this apartment. The three people who live upstairs park on the street, and they seem fine with that.

I did not recognize the car, so I knew it didn't belong to any of our upstairs neighbors, or any of their friends. Besides, they are intelligent and considerate people, and they know that if there is some sort of parking emergency, like during December's snowstorms, they can just pull in the driveway and park behind us.

We came back from out walk, and an hour later I looked outside and the car was still there. It had Connecticut plates, so I reasoned that it might be someone's visitor. I didn't want to have to walk around ringing doorbells, trying to figure out who the car belonged to. I thought about writing a sticky note that said "Please don't block our driveway" and putting it on the driver's window, but that seemed like kind of a wimpy response. By now it was nearing 10:30, and I think if you're going to be so rude as to block someone's driveway with your car, you should at least get your ass out of bed and move the car at some reasonable point after the sun has come up. I decided to call the police department, mostly because I wanted to know if I had any legal position, such as the right to have the car towed.

To my surprise, the person on the phone at the police station said they would send an officer out. I took my coffee into the living room and watched out the window, waiting for the show to start. An officer showed up about ten minutes later. He blooped the siren for a moment, sort of like a warning shot. Then he got out of his cruiser and wrote a ticket. I thought, this is great, but then it occurred to me: a ticket still didn't solve the problem of our driveway being blocked. He pulled his cruiser forward of the car, and I saw a tow truck coming around the corner. I thought, wow, Medford takes parking enforcement seriously.

Just then, the car's owner appeared. He was a big guy wearing a hockey sweater. I had an idea which house he'd come from; a bunch of rowdy dudes had moved in two doors down near the end of the summer. I watched the officer give him a bit of a civics lesson on being a good neighbor, along with the citation. The big dude got into his car and went on his way. I wonder if this will make the police blotter?