Micromanaged in Milwaukee

After almost three months of street parking, I have decided to rent out a parking spot from one of the small lots near my apartment before it starts to snow and street parking becomes a chaotic and veritable hell. Luckily for me, there are around four small lots nearby; and, being the shrewd business woman that I am, I chose to rent from the one that forces me to start renting now, a full three months earlier than I had originally intended.

So last night, after work and a trip to the gym I met “Parking Pete” outside his lot with a check in hand for the first month’s rent and a smile on my face. When I first contacted Pete regarding the availability of spots, he kept me on the phone for about 15 minutes going over how he originally acquired the lot, the finer details of snow removal, his rental history in the area, and a detailed account of how he came to live above the Mr. Shoe. In other words, I knew the man could be long winded; however, very little could have prepared me for the renting ordeal that lay before me.

As soon as he arrived Pete started sizing up my vehicle and thinking out loud about which spot he could possibly assign me to. A short man with crooked teeth, Pete reminded me of some of the nicer-looking homeless men I have seen in the city. His hair was messy and uncombed, the sleeves had been cut off of his tattered shirt, and his khaki shorts were well worn in with a permanent square bulge in the back pocket where his cigarettes were kept.

Pete deliberated for about five minutes on where to fit my car, finally deciding on a spot that was already being rented out. He asked me if I could wait in the lot while he retrieved the renter and asked her to move her car. I realized then that he was probably drunk.

Once spots were reassigned and cars were adjusted he gave me a four minute briefing on how I needed to swing my car wide when pulling into the lot followed by a comprehensive explanation of how the car on the end never pulls in far enough and how the owner of the bright blue car at the back is afraid of parking and often needs Pete to pull his car in and out of the driveway.

Finally, he told me about how he plans to pull out all the weeds surrounding the pavement and how he works the third shift.

At this point, I really wanted to leave….but not before Pete again went over how many of his renters were cautious drivers, and then in extensive detail, reviewed their parking idiosyncrasies with me.

After what added up to about 45 minutes of lecturing on angle parking, Pete leveled a serious blow to my last shreds of patience when he went on a lengthy diatribe about how my car is really long and how I may not be able to park in the lot if the other renters complain.

I made it back to my apartment with about ten minutes to spare before “Everybody Loves Raymond” during which time I blew two fuses trying to microwave my dinner and I received a phone call from Pete about the girl who parks in the spot next to mine.

Delightful.