Waddle, waddle

I was backing out of my garage today when I thought I saw the garage door jerk a little. Must've been my eyes, I thought. But then, in the rearview mirror, something looked just a wee bit wrong. Better turn my head around...Slowly but surely, I realised that there was a car parked right behind me, on our driveway!(?)...BOXing me in!!! argh!!!

It's the woman who lives downstairs. I had only seen her once, while driving home with my Grandma one day. She was quite large, flabby, and short haired, walking up our driveway to take the side entrance to the basement. At the time, she had flashed us a toothy smile, which gave me the impression that she was a decent human being...

I didn't understand why she had parked on our 45 degree sloped driveway anyway. Was she that lazy she couldn't even walk up 10 steps to get up the hill?? Didn't she think about us in the garage who might have to get out to go someplace?? Needless to say, I was pretty steamed when I gave her a phone call to move her cheap-ass car out da way.

Waiting impatiently in the garage with my arms crossed, I was ready to yell at her and tell her to NEVER park her car on our driveway again, but when she finally came into view, I just couldn't do it.

She was way bigger than I remembered, and literally waddled from side to side while making deep breathing noises. Nasty looking, she stared at the ground while walking and didn't apologise or act sorry for boxing me in. Maybe I should have said something more, but I felt really sorry for the way she was and didn't think it would help anything.

Hm...I'll get my dad to tell her... hehe.