Damn kids

Ever wonder how long it takes a kid to ignore, dismiss or forget a face-to-face appeal from a neighbor in a wheelchair? Less than three hours.

All summer, this kid, maybe 10 years old, has been parking his bike in the breezeway of my condo. You aren't supposed to do that; it is against the condo bylaws. But he is a kid, and I think he lives on the third floor so I cut him some slack.

It wasn't too hard to give him a break because he had a small bike that I could move if it was in my way. Not that it wasn't still annoying, but I could deal.

Last week he got a new bike, a big one, one that doesn't fit under the stairs and out of my path. And one I can't move.

I actually had to compose myself before I called Mom and Dad last night and asked them to bring a note out to my place the next day. The bike was parked almost across my doorway. I got past with about a foot on each side, but I almost lost it. That goddamn bike was another in a seemingly endless number of last straws.

When Dad and I got home tonight, I had the note and he went first. He wound up moving the bike so I could get in. I am sure I could have made it -- Dad always thinks my chair is bigger than it is -- but I decided to wait for the bike to be in a bad place before using the note.

I then went to get the mail and saw the kid and bike. I told him I was worried I would hit the bike and asked him to park it against the wall and out of the entry. He said sure.

That was about 5. When I came back out about 7:30, what did I see but the bike tire peeking around the wall in the entry way.