An Open Letter to the Parking Spot Thief

By Juliana Blayney, Karina Vasudeva, and Jackson Hermes

Inspired by a true story of a B-CC student

It was the second week of school and I was filled with glee

For, finally a senior, a parking pass was granted unto me.

I arose early my first morning, lunch packed and ready to go,

But in the lot in my hand-me-down whip, surprised, I came to a slow.

My face filled with shock, my hands shook with fear.

I could not believe my eyes! My spot was not clear.

Someone in my space! Another car, where mine should be.

What idiot misread their pass? What about my guarantee?

One spot, two spot, but where’s the one I bought?

Red car, blue car, I refuse to walk far.

I shook behind my wheel, hoping that SUV would disappear.

At the sight of the Mazda CX-5, down my cheek rolled a single tear.

Since that fateful incident, the tragedy of spot F19,

I dreaded my commute to school and implored Levine to intervene.

Forced to walk: Waverly, Starbucks, my humble abode,

Here to there, there to here, my feet will implode.

A note to my parking spot thief:

I will not give you grief.

You, I do not despise.

All is forgiven, until Waverly’s prices rise.

Drawing by Aidan Moffit

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