In April of 1983 I was living at Eden Square Apartments in midtown Stockton, California. Parking was on the street. I had moved there in November of 1983. I had moved to the Big Valley in 1982 from the east coast where I was unfamiliar with the kind of parking described below.
I parked on East Acacia – a side street. The front entrance was on El Dorado around the corner.
A guy started shouting at me and pointing at the street. At first I paid him no heed and continued to walk away.
“Hey you, Guy! You parked wrong.” He was yelling at me.
I stopped and looked at him.
He jabbed his arm / finger towards my car and shouted:
“You parked wrong.”
“Its how I always park,” and started to walk away.
“You see those lines painted on the street?”
He pointed to the lines painted on the street. I looked.
“They’re there for a reason, buddy,” he was boiling mad.
The lines on the street were like a grid.
Duh, I got it.
“Sorry, didn’t see it. Didn’t think to look. I’m sorry. I’ll move my car.” I got in and moved the car to in-between the lines.
This guy was suddenly my best friend. Immediately his mouth dropped. He invited me to join him at Gold’s Gym- below my apartment building. I respectfully declined.
He shook my hand and thanked me.