There is a new concept I would like to introduce to people who visit or live at apartment complexes. There are white lines that separate the black tar into little boxes for parking conveniances. You place the car between these two lines so that there is order and stability within this crazy mess of a world. More importantly, at many complexes they have metal roofs that cover some of these white lines. This is referred to as COVERED PARKING. It is like a garage for a house but not as nice and definitely not private (found that out when I needed to change my shirt in the car and a seven year old walks out with his three year old sister...nice I just became a creeper). The point of this covered parking is that because I pay the complex money, I deserve to have my vehicle protected from sun, rain, and snow. To know which spot is yours they paint little numbers on it. Numbers signify ownership here in America. Kinda like that 10 digit number that you dial when calling Grandma. That 10 digit number will only dial Grandma. It is not like one day you will dial that 10 digit number and George Clooney will pick up the phone (unless your Grandma is a hot piece of meat). So when you go to these complexes and you see 39 in between the two white lines with a tin roof over it, it is NOT yours. You did not earn a parking space in between the time you left your parent's basement to the time you arrived at your internet date's apartment. So unless you pay $600+ to live here, please know that you only get the white lines with no number and no tin roof.
And if you are paying to live here, you should know the rules so don't even pretend like you are just running in to change the kitty litter for Princess Fluffy.
Final Words: Maybe Charleston's should invest in flair. And damn it feels good to be a gangster.
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