So yesterday I come out of the gym after a typically invigorating workout, and I discover that some oblivious driver has boxed me in by parking on my left at such an incompetent angle that I can only crack my door open about eight inches. After sharing a few choice words with the car in question--a white Toyota Camry with Idaho plates--I notice that this genius has also left her* keys in the ignition.
So I pause to consider...
A. Squeeze into my car and leave the scene.
B. Scribble a quick note to leave behind, telling the driver what an inconsiderate moron she is.
C. Hop in her car and drive it to a different space in the parking lot, knowing that she will experience the brief but completely deserved horror that grips a person when they think their car has been stolen.
So what did I do?
I crammed into my car and drove away. For one thing, if I had moved her car like I wanted to, she never would have figured out that it happened because she had done such a crap job of parking. For another, I'm just a good person.
And I hate myself for it.
*Not a sexist assumption. She also had one of her old missionary tags hanging from the rear-view mirror.