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People Around the World Share Satisfying Stories of Petty Revenge

82. Park In My Driveway? We’ll See About That


Back when I was in high school (let’s say about 1966 or 1967), my family lived not too far from Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena, where the Rose Parade occurs every January 1. Huge crowds of people showed up, and parking could get congested.

On January 1, someone actually parked in our driveway; didn’t ask permission, just parked, locked, and left.

Fortunately, in those days, car door locks could be opened with a straightened metal clothes hanger (~1-meter long heavy gauge wire with a hook at one end) inserted between the frame and the window, hooked around the lock pushbutton, and the button lifted. So we unlocked the car, pushed it into the middle of the street (don’t remember having any difficulty with the steering wheel lock, so I guess the car didn’t have one), relocked it, and went inside.

Should mention that street had two lanes in each direction, plus a turning lane in the center; car left in turning lane. Car was towed.



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