Posted by: Jeremiah Graves | August 9, 2012

People I May Heinously Murder: The Jerk Who Parked a U-Haul Truck in My Alley

What you see above is a U-Haul wedged haphazardly between two buildings.

What you don’t see is a driveway. This is because there is no driveway here, but rather a small foot alley intended for pedestrians to walk, not for anyone to drive or park a gigantic truck.

Coming home from work today I was greeted by this sight and quickly realized that I couldn’t get to my own apartment—and more importantly to Honey—because some jabroni thought it prudent to leave his/her moving truck jammed tightly between a pair of apartment buildings (as well as on the sidewalk and in the street as well).

I did what any sane person would do and I looked around for a bit to see if anyone was around to take ownership of the truck and subsequent piss-poor parking job.

Alas, there was nary a soul to be seen.

Naturally, I followed this up by banging on the side of the truck and yelling into the ether for the driver of the truck to come and move the large piece of scrap metal lest I call the authorities to have it physically removed from the premises.

Once again this yielded no response and certainly no rectification of the situation.

So I did what any guy—who doesn’t really want to deal with calling the cops on someone who is likely a neighbor that he’ll have to see every day—would do and I got onto my hands and knees and sorta shimmied under the side mirror and squeezed myself precariously through the six (maybe six-and-a-half) inch gap between the truck and the building.

I then took the above photo and stormed up to my apartment only to find that some delivery guy had propped a 100+ pound box up against my door.

Apparently one of my in-building neighbors ordered a futon. Seriously, a futon. Congrats, bro…that’ll look awesome next your your lava lamp, mini-fridge, and “ironic” Justin Bieber poster.

It’s like the world was conspiring to keep me from my cat! I’m basically Jason Bourne, y’all. This conspiracy goes all the way to the top.

Luckily—just like the aforementioned Jason Bourne—I’m crazy strong and was able to quickly dispatch of the hefty futon (read: I grunted and groaned and cried until I was able to basically tip it over and out of the way) and gain entry to my apartment wherein Honey was super-duper excited to see me.

So yes, this story has a happy ending…but that doesn’t change the fact that some inconsiderate ignoramus basically forced me to crawl on the ground and squeeze my ghetto booty to get by his/her moving truck.

Watch your back moving truck jerk…I’m coming for you.



  1. were the keys in the ignition… should have just backed it out onto the street. #thingsAnIowanWouldKnowHowToDo


    • The keys were NOT in the ignition and the doors were locked. Believe me, my friend…I’d certainly contemplated the merits of moving this sucker.

      Although, undoubtedly, I would have ended up driving it into the side of the building and then backing over a car or a child or something…so there’s that?!


  2. yeah I would have just called the cops.


    • Legit. I guess I didn’t want to deal with the whole big hullabaloo that would accompany that, especially if:

      a) The van was parked there by some crazy hot chick who was friends with Taylor Swift.

      b) The van was parked there by my new neighbor with whom I would be guaranteed almost-daily awkward interactions for duration of his/her lease.

      c) The van wasn’t really there and I was completely jacked up on cold medicine from trying to fight the head cold the Denny clan hooked me up with over the weekend.


  3. You called him a “jabroni” HA


  4. I live in an apartment complex, too, and inconsiderate neighbors is a HUGE pet peeve of mine! I’m so sorry you had to go through that! And I’m assuming that truck was rented out and driven by (and stupidly parked by) your neighbor and not by an employee from a professional moving company. Man…that must have been one gi-normous futon!


    • Yeah, I was little freaked out by it myself. The futon I had in college was made mostly of old soda cans and sketchy springs. I don’t know if it weighed more than 10 pounds without the mattress on it. This thing was intense; clearly not meant for commoners such as myself.


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