In my part of Calif, if someone is in or blocking your driveway, you can directly call a tow company that offers PPI service, and many do. There are legal steps they must follow, so I always make sure to call one that advertises PPI services. (Private Party Impound)

I once lived in a canyon area where off-street parking was valuable and rare. I was lucky enough to have two spots due to my house being on two lots. My lower spot was used as guest parking. It was legally signed with two “NO PARKING! TOW AWAY” signs placed above, facing oncoming traffic, while the other one was at eye level and impossible to miss should someone occupy the space.

Down the street was a popular steakhouse that didn’t have adequate parking, so many self-absorbed flatlanders would pull into my space with no regard for the signage. One late afternoon I rolled up from working all day only to find a shiny black late-model Saab in my space. After checking with a neighbor, who informed me she had seen the couple walking toward the restaurant and warned them that I meant business with the towing warning, I rang up the heartless pros at Lakeside Towing.

They arrived within 15 minutes and had the car on a hook in another 10 minutes. Off it went to their impound yard some 20 miles and a 175 dollar (30 years ago) impound fee away. I’d already been warned by my neighbor that the male driver was a huge d’bag, so I patiently waited for their return.

The male was livid, and displayed all of the righteous indignations of a self-absorbed spoiled brat who isn’t accustomed to being denied what he wants. He proceeded to march up my long flight of outside stairs but was met halfway by my huge red Doberman, who stood menacingly athwart the stairs, glaring at him with her pointy ears laid back.

I told him he could call Lakeside and they’d tell him what he has to do to recover his car. He said he was calling the police, and I told him that wasn’t necessary because Lakeside always calls them when they do a PPI, in case the car’s owner reports it as stolen.

Frustrated and embarrassed in front of what turned out to be a woman on her first date with him (and probably last) he called me some choice names and epithets, then stormed down the stairs where he, for some reason, decided to pound on my neighbor’s door. I don’t know if he even noticed the red flash that ran by him, but by the time he was halfway up their outside stairs, he was once again denied access by my huge Doberman, Ruby. She was fond of the neighbors and felt the need to protect them as well.

I could hear him screaming at my neighbor: “How in the **** am I supposed to get to that impound yard from way out here? Walk? With my date?” My neighbor calmly answered “Well, that’s one way you could get there. You could also call a cab, but they always add a $15 surcharge to the fare due to our remote location. I’ve got supper cooking, gotta get inside. Good luck!”

I don’t know what he ended up doing, nor do I care. All I know is big Dobermans are amazing, and he most likely never pulled a bad decision stunt like that ever again.