When we finally arrived at our destination, swerving right on a final junction, we were promptly greeted with a small surprise: there was not a single inch of parking space throughout the whole block.
For the next five or so minutes, I cruised us around the vicinity for the vaguest thing that resembled an empty rectangle while Irene sat side-eyeing all the cars that weren't exactly following proper parking etiquette.
"781PHZ," Irene said disapprovingly, eyes staring lasers at a blue sedan. "I know him. Got dragged in for a D.U.I a couple of months back."
I snorted.
"Y'know, should I even be surprised you have an entire archive of felonies you can just in your head?"
"He's taking up a lane, and blocking an exit for two," Irene went on with that sour little note trailing behind her words. "It wasn't his first offense either actually. He's been snagged for a lot of other things. Always bailed out within a few hours."
"Lucky guy."