This note on my windscreen this morning:
Dear whoever you are,
Tell you what, I’ll do you a couple of favours.
Firstly I won’t park in front of your house anymore. It’s not that appealing anyway. I don’t know what the hell you’ve done to your nature strip, which resembles an overgrown miniature botanic gardens, but it makes life difficult for my passenger to alight from my car. So I’ll park 3 metres forward or back from now on.
Secondly, I’ll explain the parking rules on this street. The signs are pretty clear: It’s one-hour parking from 9am to 5pm on weekdays, and on Saturdays between 9am and 1pm. That’s all. Other than that, it’s a free-for-all. Anybody from anywhere can park here. It matters not a jot that it’s in front of your house and your weed colony.
If you want to get the spot in front of your house restricted, talk to your local council. You probably have a gnat’s chance in hell, but if you’re really lucky, they might decide your request is worthy, and make it permit parking. Mind you I bet they’d love to take a look at that nature strip.
Please do let me know if you get so outraged with someone parking there that you call the police. I’d really love to know what they say.