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So today I was painting the parking lines in the parking lot. As cars left, I would mark off spots in whatever section I was working in to prevent people from parking there. Now, I only have a grand total of five orange cones, which is not nearly enough, so I was using whatever I could find to block off spots, including ice buckets my broom and dustpan, and the striper itself. Basically, whatever I can find to stick at the end of the parking spot to say "don't park here!" Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could have figured out what was going on there.
I'd just finished sweeping and prepping a section for painting. I just had to run down and grab the striper and the cones from the section that was drying and move them over. I used a couple cones I had, then used my broom and dustpan and very deliberately laid them across the parking spaces.
I grabbed my cones in the other section to release those spots, and as I used the striper to touch-up one section near the end of the driveway, a woman in a Navigator pulls in, looks at me painting lines, drives past the spots that are done and available, and drives right over my broom into the clearly not-yet-painted section that has something blocking every other parking spot.
The broom handle was squished to the point of being useless.
Normally I wait for spots to vacate to avoid the paint spray misting cars but...it was a white Lincoln Navigator, it was white spray paint, I may have decided "F**k that b*tch" and painted the lines right up alongside her lovely SUV. After all, it was vacant when I cordoned off that section. (No, I didn't get any paint on her vehicle. But I did hope to make her sweat a bit about it.)
Bonus
In addition to painting lines, I was straightening out our poor concrete parking curbs in anticipation of painting them later, and they have taken much abuse since they were last straightened (probably last summer/fall). Now, I freely admit I have hit more than my fair share of curbs before (as well as the occasional sign post), but tell me, how the hell do you hit one hard enough to flip it upside down and into the adjacent parking space?!? My forearms are now plenty sore from moving those damn heavy things.
I'd just finished sweeping and prepping a section for painting. I just had to run down and grab the striper and the cones from the section that was drying and move them over. I used a couple cones I had, then used my broom and dustpan and very deliberately laid them across the parking spaces.
I grabbed my cones in the other section to release those spots, and as I used the striper to touch-up one section near the end of the driveway, a woman in a Navigator pulls in, looks at me painting lines, drives past the spots that are done and available, and drives right over my broom into the clearly not-yet-painted section that has something blocking every other parking spot.
The broom handle was squished to the point of being useless.
Normally I wait for spots to vacate to avoid the paint spray misting cars but...it was a white Lincoln Navigator, it was white spray paint, I may have decided "F**k that b*tch" and painted the lines right up alongside her lovely SUV. After all, it was vacant when I cordoned off that section. (No, I didn't get any paint on her vehicle. But I did hope to make her sweat a bit about it.)
Bonus
In addition to painting lines, I was straightening out our poor concrete parking curbs in anticipation of painting them later, and they have taken much abuse since they were last straightened (probably last summer/fall). Now, I freely admit I have hit more than my fair share of curbs before (as well as the occasional sign post), but tell me, how the hell do you hit one hard enough to flip it upside down and into the adjacent parking space?!? My forearms are now plenty sore from moving those damn heavy things.
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