Gnome Meets Writer Badger

Badger is the satyrist in my life. At our last meeting, he read a story that poked fun at a well-to-do woman in town. He based the story on what she did – was it last year? – when she hung her wheel on the ramp of the parking garage as she left dinner to go to the symphony. "One too many martinis," she kept repeating as she grasped her steering wheel and cried. And I remember that evening: My Mr. Mallory and I sat in the auditorium wondering why they delayed the orchestra, when suddenly a large group of people walked in – some looking tipsy – and sat in their seats. Not until they sat did the orchestra begin to play.
As it turns out, the alcoholic in the car blocked the way of many symphony ticket holders. They had to wait for someone to remove her car – a Jaguar, of course – before they could leave the building. These ne'er'do-well alcoholics give Jaguar owners a bad name.
Anyway, back to Badger. He wrote his story based on this woman and her foolish behaviour. There is a scene that makes me chuckle: It has to do with the repo man who's boss has called him to remove the car from the parking lot ramp. At the moment of the phone call, the repo man is busy removing a car from the driveway of a wealthy couple; their maid has not paid for the car and so he's repossessing it. The old man looks out the window and sees the repo man. He feels appalled by the truck and the chains and the car being pulled away –- but does he feel appalled for the "right" reason, namely, the poverty suffered by his pitiable maid, or her negligence in her finances? No, he fears what the neighbors might think -- of him. So, he grasps the centuries-old sword above the mantel and shuffles out the front door in his houseshoes, his old and puny arms barely able to hold the sword above the ground. The repo man sees the old man shuffling toward him, struggling with the sword. The repo man puts his arm around the old man's shoulder, turns him around, and starts taking him back into the house. (The unexpectedly calm response by a character, in this case the repo man, seems typical of Badger in his work – actually, anything unexpected seems quite typical of Badger's work.)
Enter another character, the old man's wife, who has pushed a flower pot over the railing. The pot has fallen on the repo man, causing him to fall unconscious with a serious cerebral hematoma. This is where Badger leaves us in his story, to be continued next time.
Later, as I chuckled over what I remembered about the story, I found myself remembering the evenings that we've gone to the symphony. We have to park far away, and it's bad enough negotiating the steep hill we have to walk down, and then up, without having to contend with those drunks in their vehicles trying to find a place to park. They are full of wine and coctails after their dinners and they've come to the symphony unable to drive, and worse, the effect of alcohol makes them feel belligerent toward the pedestrians. They have become the only thing I dislike about our symphony. I hail our satyrist when he writes stories based on their foolish behaviour.