The Ferraris Are Gone! The Ferraris Are Gone!
When you go down to the parkage of my apartment building, your life is at risk. There’s a jerk who thinks he’s Michael Schumacher, has TWO Ferraris, and treats the parkade as his personal F1 race track. (Seriously, who needs even one Ferrari in Calgary? The sports car season only lasts three months out of the year!) Anyway, if you hear tires squealing, it’s best to hug the closest wall. On one occasion, he missed clipping me by an inch.
I went down to get my car last night. And. Both. Ferraris. Are. Gone. Not one, but both. I rushed to the lobby, talked to the concierge, and, yes, Schumacher-wannabe moved out! Oh, thank God! I haven’t been this relieved since the condo board evicted the idiot who was dealing out of his Hummer in the alley behind the building.
Now maybe I can let my mom use the parkade without fearing for her safety.
(In case you’re wondering, I’m the poorest person in the building. I drive a ten-year-old spoiler-free Honda Civic sedan.)