So, first off: If you didn't know already, May is National Independent Booksellers Month. Rock on, Independent Booksellers! To celebrate in my own way, I wrote this spotlight on local Indie the King's English. The spotlight appeared on the Shrinking Violets blog, which is devoted to helping introverted writers with publicity--both for themselves and for their favorite bookstores. Jenn Northington (Marketing and Events Director at the King's English) and I ate brownies in order to fully observe this terrif holiday. With my heart full of love for the King's English and its awesomeness, I decided to drop by on Thursday night to check out the reading/signing for YA fantasy author Aprilynne Pike.
If there's one thing TKE lacks, it's sufficient parking. After all, the store is located in that little strip of Sugarhouse where local businesses and residences coexist in perfect harmony. Parking lots are not conducive to said harmony. Thus, I was resigned to street parking. The only spot I could find was thisclose to someone's driveway. Should I risk it? Then I saw the Parking Enforcement officer coming down the hill on his little golf-cartmobile. I turned off my car and stood next to it, thinking that if I was in violation, this was certainly the man who'd tell me so. When he putt-putted off without a second glance at me, I breathed a sigh of relief and got ready to PAR-TAY! (There was cake. Need I say more?)
After the shindig, including a bite to eat at the restaurant next door, my friends and I were heading home in my car. Imagine my surprise as I proceeded to make a semi-U-turn (never my strong suit) and saw two pedestrians rush out toward me, seemingly out of nowhere, as though they WANTED me to hit them. One figure retreated, while the other came up to my window. Upon closer inspection, this second figure proved to be a tweenage boy. A very embarrassed-looking tweenage boy, who prompted me to roll down the window. He then said, "My mom made this for you." Before running away, he thrust the following note in my direction:
Yes, that is a picture of my car. Which this lady took, printed out, and Scotch-taped onto a poorly written note. As my friend Brodi pointed out, the picture actually proves my point more than hers: technically, I'm NOT parked in her driveway.
In Brodi's blog she mentions her list of Things That Must Go a la Radio From Hell on X96. This scenario involves so many Things That Must Go that I simply can't decide on one. This is where you come in. What do YOU think must go?
a) East-side Divas with too much time on their hands. (Sorry East-Benchers, but you know how we sistas from the street feel about your kind).
b) Grammatically incorrect, ill-composed and all-around bizarre notes. (My favorite line: "Are you just un-aware? If so now you are." Runner-up: "I'm just hoping this will save someone else in the future." )
c) Parents who make their kids do their bidding. How was this mom to know what a sweet, gentle person I was? What if I was the burly, mean, criminal type who grabbed her kid and took off? I'm not a parent, but really...do you have to be a parent to know this is a BAD IDEA?
d) Parking enforcers on funny-looking golf carts.
So? What's the verdict?