Strange scenes in the alley 2

A couple of nights ago, there was a car parked in front of my garage containing a young couple engaged in amorous relations.  My garage doors open almost directly into the alley, leaving not so much a driveway, but a small, car-width sliver of space between the garage and the alley.  Of all the thousands of discreet places in the city, it was in this space that the pair of youngsters, overcome by passion and desire, decided to dock their mid-size sedan to permit the male occupant the opportunity to dock something else.  

Inside the house, I was totally oblivious to the strange vehicle and the illicit love making going on outside.  That is until my wife came home and asked who was parked back by the garage.  Needing to take out the trash anyway, I decided to walk back there and investigate.  As I drew closer to the garage, I could tell that the car was running.  Although it was dark, I figured the driver would see me approaching and tear off into the night.  I rattled the trash cans a bit, hoping to get the driver’s attention, but still there was no discernible activity coming from the car.  In retrospect, if the car had been rockin, I might not have bothered knockin.  But I couldn’t see anyone sitting in the front seat, so I moved in closer to take a look.  It was dark, but I could just make out a figure laying down in the backseat.  I wondered if perhaps this was some homeless person who had pulled into this spot to take a nap.  Almost every conceivable explanation flashed through my brain as I knocked on the window. But it never occurred to me that the car’s occupants were making the beast with two backs until two figures popped up, startled at my tap, tap, tapping on their Chevy Malibu door.  The young man hurriedly hopped out the door on the opposite side of the car, struggling to pull up his pants.  

For my part, I was a little shocked at the scene I had stumbled upon and immediately began to flip out.  “What the fuck are you doing!?  This is private fucking parking!  You can’t do that shit here!  We run a clean damn family neighborhood around here!”  My wife later told me that from inside the house she could hear every word I shouted, which means my daughter and most of the neighbors could probably hear me as well.  Listening to myself cursing at this young man, I paused, collected my thoughts and began to calm down.  “Listen, son,” I said.  “We’ve all been in your situation before, but parking in someone’s drive is a real amateur move.  Any homeowner that sees a strange vehicle parked on their property is going to investigate.  You’re lucky it’s me and that I’m cool.  My wife wanted to call the cops.  Just go find a deserted parking lot, or park behind one of the bars downtown.  Nobody down there will give a second glance to a couple of lovebirds copulating in the backseat of a car.  Probably happens every night.  Now scram, you horny devil.”

As I stood there, proud of myself for reining in my irritation and using the situation as a teachable moment to impart some of my accumulated wisdom on the younger generation, the impassioned couple tore off down the alley and into the night, flipping me the bird and yelling “Fuck you old man” as their taillights disappeared into the darkness.  I just shook my head and smiled.  They may not realize it yet, but one day when they’re coupling in solitude, they’ll appreciate the wise advice that grouchy old man gave them.

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