I’m Bob, a 40-year-old construction foreman, and I’ve seen a lot over the years—but nothing quite like this. We’ve been working a brutal uphill job with no road access. Every material has to be carried up a steep path. Our only saving grace? Two clearly marked “No Parking” zones at the base for deliveries. One morning, I got a call—our lumber delivery was just minutes away. I headed down to clear the zone… only to find a white SUV parked right in it. A woman sat inside, texting. I politely asked her to move. She didn’t even look up. “Take a chill pill,” she muttered. “Deal with it.” So, we did. The delivery truck showed up, and I told the driver to pull in as close as legally possible—boxing her in between the truck and a porta-potty. We began unloading, and she couldn’t open her driver’s side door. Watching her climb across the console and fall out the passenger side was just… chef’s kiss. When she demanded we move the truck, we explained company policy: can’t move with an unsecured load. Then karma really kicked in—she tried to reverse out, rammed the porta-potty, and got stuck trying to mount the sidewalk. Parking enforcement showed up just in time to witness the chaos. Turns out she was driving on a suspended license, with a child in the car. She ended the morning in handcuffs, and her SUV got towed. Back at the site, my crew and I toasted to instant karma. We raised our cans and laughed, knowing that some lessons come hard—and some parking spots come with a price
