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Clark Street was busy on a Friday night with cars vying for parking spaces and pedestrians crisscrossing from galleries to restaurants and back again. I was looking for a hydrant or a loading zone so my friend and I could make a quick stop at the video store. I spotted an open meter right in front, but unfortunately a large SUV seemed to be about to back into it. But it just sat there, and I assumed that it was just another driver with more vehicle than he could handle. I waited almost a minute, and when he didn't move, I pulled into the spot thinking he was not parking after all. Sure enough, the driver backed up next to me, and as the woman in the passenger seat rolled down her window a crack he leaned over and yelled, "Thanks a lot, pal!" "Didn't you see me waiting for you to park?" I asked. "I was on the phone!" he screamed. When I suggested he needed some driving lessons, he screeched off with a resentful "Fuck you!" --Allen C. Feldman

Reader to Reader welcomes (and pays for) anecdotes, overheard conversations, and slices of city life from 20 to 200 words in length. Send yours to Reader to Reader, 11 E. Illinois, Chicago 60611, or E-mail to

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