This is a story from a friend. She had moved from New York to Los Angeles, and although she had driven her car there, she had not been out of the LA Basin since. Consider her a California newbie.

Our hero was an Apple Mac influencer, before the term influencer was coined. She did talks, shows, consulting, etc. (Note, she was not a nasty entitled influencer, just trying to freelance a living.)

She gets a call offering a free ticket to MacWorld in San Jose, and an offer to couch surf while there. So, after throwing her stuff in a bag, she charges down to the parking garage, puts her bag in the car, and realizes that she has no idea whatsoever where she is going. She doesn’t even know how to get out of the LA Basin.

So she goes up to the security guard in the garage and totally innocently asks:

Friend: “Do you know the way to San Jose?”

I’m in the parking lot, loading groceries into my trunk. I hear a scream. A woman in front of the store is holding her phone up, texting. A guy on a bike rides past, snatches it right out of her hand, and keeps pedaling like crazy.

She yells after him.

Customer: “HEY! HEY! HE STOLE MY PHONE!”

I freeze, too far away to really do anything but witness the act. The biker passes an employee who’s bringing carts.

The biker passes him.

The employee kicks his foot out at the bike as it passes him, pushing the front wheel sideways. The thief goes flying over the handlebars like a rag doll, hits the pavement, and skids to a stop.

His bike cartwheels behind him and lands in a twisted heap. 

The woman gasps. I’m standing there, engrossed.

The employee walks over, picks up her phone, checks it, and then calmly hands it back to her.

Thief: “WHAT THE— WHAT THE H***, MAN?! I’M INJURED! I’M GONNA SUE YOU!”

Employee: “How injured? Enough for me to call 911?”

Thief: “YEAH!”

Employee: “Oh, perfect. I’ll ask for the ambulance at the same time as I ask for the police. Save me a phone call.”

The thief realizes exactly how badly he has screwed up.

Thief: “F*** YOU! F*** THIS!”

He scrambles to his feet, limps for a second, then sprints away, leaving behind his crooked, bent, very sad-looking bicycle.

The employee just shrugs, grabs his line of shopping carts, and keeps working like it’s the most normal thing in the world. I go up to the guy after and ask if he’s really calling the police and if he needs a witness.

Employee: “Nah. The police will just file it and do nothing.”

Me: “Okay, I suppose. Still, are you okay?”

Employee: *Shrugs.* “That was nothing. The customers inside… they’re much worse.”

I work in a place with a deeded garage parking. 

Had one sweet old lady (I’ll call her Granny) who owned a Mini Cooper. Another couple who rented a unit did not have a parking spot and took to planting their car in her spot. When Granny complained, the renters would just say they were entitled because there were so many empty parking places, so Granny could park somewhere else. WHAT THE HECK DO THEY NOT GET ABOUT DEEDED PARKING!

This continued until the day the sweet old lady decided to be not-so-sweet. She pulled her car in front of the two renters’ car and parked bumper to bumper. She put a note on their car saying:

Granny: “Parking in this space is $150 a day. Please leave a check with the concierge.”

So the two renters grifters showed up at my desk b****ing about their car being blocked off and actually expected me to tow Granny’s car off! I had to re-explain that:

Me: “Deeded parking means that I cannot tow a car from Granny’s spot, any more than I can rearrange furniture in her apartment. It’s her land; she owns it. You abandoned your car on her property; talk to her.”

So, after twenty minutes of the renters grifters b****ing:

Renters: “Call her!”

Me: “It’s very early.”

Renters: “It’s an emergency!”

I called Granny, even though it was early in the morning. She came down to the desk in her housecoat and slippers with her dog in tow. 

They begged her to move her car.

Granny: “It’ll be $150. Leave the check with the concierge.”

Renters: “You can’t do that!”

Granny: “It’ll be an extra $50 for waking me up in the morning because you claimed it was an emergency.”

Renters: “How long before you leave the garage?”

Granny: “Dearies, I’m retired. I’ll leave my spot when I’m ready. And the price just went up to $150 a day, plus $50 for waking me, and that will be in cash. Leave the envelope with the concierge. I’m walking my dog, and I’ll move my car when I have your rental fee in hand.”

Not only did the renters not park in her spot, but word got around, and I didn’t have to deal with that issue for another two years.

I’m leaving a parking lot and need to make a left turn on the road. I look left, see that the nearer lane is empty, but there’s a woman stepping into the crosswalk. I look to the right and see that traffic in the far lane is backed up all the way to a curve down the way a bit. Pondering if it might be quicker to just turn right and loop around some back roads, there’s suddenly a very soft thump in front of me. I look, and the lady from the crosswalk has just laid her top half down on my hood. I put the car in park, roll down my window, and lean my head out.

Me: “Are you okay?”

She suddenly pops her head up.

Lady: “YOU HIT ME!”

She couldn’t even bother pretending to put on an “I’m so hurt” voice or feign being in pain! The nerve! The laziness! She also didn’t sound like she was any sort of drunk, high, or otherwise impaired.

Me: “I absolutely did not. My foot’s been on the brake for about a minute now, waiting to get out of here.”

Lady: “GOOD LUCK PROVING THAT!”

I lift my finger and point at the dash-cam stuck to my windshield.

Me: “This records video AND sound. You want to try again?”

Her response was to press her face against my hood and rub back and forth to smear her makeup all over it before stomping off. Yes, that sure showed me!

A while back, I tried teaching my wife how to drive a standard transmission. The Costco parking lot on Easter Sunday seemed like the place to practice driving.

That year, Easter happened to fall on 3/31. A few minutes into the lesson, an old woman walks right up to the car and starts tapping on the window.

Woman: “Why is Costco closed?!”

Me: *Through the glass.* “Probably because it’s Easter Sunday!”

Woman: “Well then, why are you here?”

Me: “Driving lesson.”

Woman: “You need to let me in!”

Me: “I don’t work here.”

Woman: “You don’t understand! I got coupons!”

Me: “I still don’t work here.”

Woman: “The coupons expire on the 31^st! It’s false advertising for them to be closed on the 31^st!”

Me: “Well, maybe you should take it up with them when they open.”

Woman: “But you’re here!”

Me: “Yes, but we don’t work here.”

Woman: “But you need to let me in!”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t work here. Even if we did, the store is closed today, and no one can let you in. Now, my wife is about to learn how to drive a standard transmission for the first time, and you being so close wouldn’t be wise. Please back off.”

Woman: “But my coupons!”

Me: *Loudly to my wife.* “I’m not saying aim for her, but I’m not telling you not to either.”

The woman scowls at us both and moves on, ranting about her coupons.