For the past six months, I’ve been paying a guy named Gary $90 a month to park… · @AmaterasuX20 · TwKit

@AmaterasuX20

For the past six months, I’ve been paying a guy named Gary $90 a month to park my car behind a bakery on Alder Street. No contract. No receipts. Just a payment app transfer on the first of every month. Everything was fine until last week, when Gary suddenly texted me: “Sorry, bro. The landlord’s raising the price. It’s gonna be $120 a month starting next month.” I stared at my phone. From $90 to $120? A 33% INCREASE OVERNIGHT?! Something didn’t feel right. So I decided to speak to the landlord myself. The next morning, I walked into the bakery, bought a loaf of rye bread, and casually asked the woman behind the counter: “Excuse me, who manages the parking lot out back?” “I do,” she replied. “Which car is yours?” I pointed through the window. She looked outside and smiled. “Oh, the gray Honda. You’re one of Gary’s people.” I froze. “Wait… you know Gary?” “Of course. Back in April, I caught him collecting parking money from someone on my property. I could’ve called the police.” She started putting my bread into a bag. “But we worked something out. He pays me $60 a month, and he keeps $30 as a finder’s fee. That parking spot was sitting empty anyway.” Suddenly, something clicked. “Hold on. So you’ve been getting $60 this whole time?” “That’s right, honey.” “And you recently raised the price?” She looked confused. “No, sweetheart. My price has always been $60.” Silence. I pulled out my phone and read Gary’s message again. “The landlord’s raising the price.” Then I did the math. I’d been paying $90. The actual owner received $60. Gary pocketed $30. Now he wanted me to pay $120. But the owner was STILL only charging $60. GARY WAS TRYING TO DOUBLE HIS OWN PROFIT FROM $30 TO $60 WHILE BLAMING THE LANDLORD!! The woman shook her head, amused. Then she grabbed my receipt, wrote a number on the back, and slid it across the counter. $75. “Just pay me directly from now on.” “You save $15 a month. I make an extra $15.” She paused. “And Gary can find himself another hobby.” That evening, Gary texted me again: “Hey bro, we’re good for the first, right?” I typed just five words: “I spoke to the owner.” Then I watched the three little typing dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. Disappear again. FOR TWENTY STRAIGHT MINUTES. Gary never sent another message. And now I genuinely want to know… IF YOU WERE GARY, WHAT WOULD YOU EVEN SAY AFTER GETTING THAT TEXT?!

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