{"id":2917,"date":"2012-06-28T09:46:49","date_gmt":"2012-06-28T16:46:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/?p=2917"},"modified":"2025-05-23T17:31:26","modified_gmt":"2025-05-23T22:31:26","slug":"bum-coaches-thursday-june-28th","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/bum-coaches-thursday-june-28th\/","title":{"rendered":"Bum Coaches- Thursday June 28th"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

One day last week, on one of those glorious, breezy summer days, I was getting ready to parallel park and spotted three urban outdoorsmen drinking tall boys and watching me. \u00a0I slowed down and watched them. \u00a0They watched me more. \u00a0I narrowed my eyes and put the car in reverse.<\/p>\n

I admit that the suburbs have made me a little soft. \u00a0My inconsistently aggressive driving has given way to a casual-wave-at-stragers-oh-no-after-you-please attitude behind the wheel. \u00a0I’ve grown too used to long stretches of quaint brick paved streets and flaming hot cheeto bag-free lawns. \u00a0But I didn’t battle beach rats and slum lords throughout my twenties to be intimidated by a few home-challenged revelers watching me park my car. \u00a0I gently pressed the gas pedal.<\/p>\n

Although, it was weird that they were there. \u00a0My office is in a very fancy neighborhood. \u00a0It’s full of DePaul students and yuppies, and it seems like the serious vagrants and misfits head downtown to mingle with tourists. \u00a0But these fellows were hanging out in front of a well kept Lincoln Park secret: a grayed out spot on the map, a glitch. \u00a0It’s this strange empty double lot on a quaint little street filled with romantic brownstones. \u00a0There’s also a House of Wings on the corner, which is a little out of place but according to the reviews Scotch-taped to the windows serves wings with “just-right crispness, heat”. \u00a0The lot is surrounded by a wrough iron fence and inside it’s like a enchanted little forest. \u00a0The ground is three feet think with pine needles. \u00a0Birds tweet cheerfully and flitter from one bough to the next. \u00a0If you stand and watch for a few minutes you feel like the birds might fly over and help you get dressed for a ball while a fairy godmother singes encouragingly.<\/p>\n

I don’t know who owns this lot, or what it’s purpose is. \u00a0The heavy padlock around the gate entrance indicates it’s not for public use, but the set of migrating sprinkles reveals that a human being does meddle in some way. \u00a0Once I saw a human walking in and out of the opened gate with a bucket and a broom and I stopped and asked “What is this place?”<\/p>\n

The human conveniently did not speak English. \u00a0The mystery remains.<\/p>\n

I tried to ignore the crackheads and concentrate on precision parking. \u00a0But as I inched closer to the car behind me I heard a whistle. \u00a0“Ay! \u00a0Ay! \u00a0You!”. \u00a0I slammed on the brakes. \u00a0Realizing that one of the carousers was going to try and help me parellel park and then guilt me into giving him a few bucks, I slammed on the gas in diafiance. \u00a0Then I mashed into the car behind me. \u00a0Embaressed, I put my car in drive and mashed into the car in front of me.<\/p>\n

“It’s ok! I got it under control!” I shouted as I continued to molest the cars in front and behind me with my bumper. \u00a0I refuse to be the woman who has to have a trio of sots help her parallel park, even though it’s becoming increasingly clear that I need some help. \u00a0I also will not abandon a spot because I’m embarrassed that it’s taking me 67 tries to get in there. \u00a0I didn’t care that four cars are behind me now, and it felt like I have a stadium of people watching me compete in a one-person demolition derby.<\/p>\n

I’m sweating now. \u00a0Tallboys abandoned on the sidewalk, the sidewalk residents walk towards my car. \u00a0I squish my lips out of the one-inch opening in the window. \u00a0“I’m all good, no help needed!!” \u00a0Then I rammed my car twice more until it’s stuffed in a parking spot that’s 8 centimeters bigger than my car. I get out of the car and gather my purse, phone, and dog. \u00a0I pressed the lock button on the key FOB and for once decide not to wince at the obnoxious MEEP MEEP that signals to the ill-intentioned that my car is in fact locked. I can’t tell if I can hear them laughing or if that’s just the wind whistling in my ears as I drag my dog down the sidewalk in a half run.<\/p>\n

Back at the office, safe from helpful crackheads, I decide to call 311- Chicago’s non-emergency police line. \u00a0I am indignant. \u00a0I should be able to badly park my car anywhere I want without being heckled by people- homeless or homed! \u00a0I dial 311.<\/p>\n

I tell the woman who answers what happened. \u00a0There’s such a long pause that I think I’ve lost the connection, then I get transferred to someone else. \u00a0I repeat the story to another person, and I can hear their eyes rolling through the phone. “Hmmm mmmm, hold please.” \u00a0I’m transferred to a 911 operator. \u00a0“Oh really?” \u00a0she said with obvious boredom “let me transfer you to our non-emergency line” she pressed the button before I could stop her. \u00a0Fifteen minutes later an operator said “Oh gosh, I will send a squad car right away. \u00a0Those people shouldn’t be trying to help people park!” \u00a0Her sarcastically helpful attitude and snickering should have embarrassed me more than it did.<\/p>\n

I decided to be a good sport about being teased and a few minutes later the police operator and I were fast friends. \u00a0Eventually I admitted that I was a suburban transplant and we laughed and laughed about my new found delicate nature. \u00a0When I went out to my car at the end of the day and there were no signs of hobos or hobo debris, I wondered if it had all been a dream. \u00a0Then I saw a pile of old chicken bones, yelped, jumped into my car and sped off.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

**Unimportant details have been changed for the sake of storytelling<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

One day last week, on one of those glorious, breezy summer days, I was getting ready to parallel park and spotted three urban outdoorsmen drinking tall boys and watching me. \u00a0I slowed down and watched them. \u00a0They watched me more. \u00a0I narrowed my eyes and put the car in reverse. I admit that the suburbs … Continue reading “Bum Coaches- Thursday June 28th”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2917","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2917","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2917"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2917\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3298,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2917\/revisions\/3298"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2917"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2917"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2917"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}