Howard Homecoming, Brunch, and a Very Bad Omen Named Vomit
Let's set the scene: it's Howard Homecoming weekend in Washington, D.C. Our storyteller has been going hard since Thursday — events, drinking, the whole circuit — with a group that includes Malachi, the guy driving her car all weekend. Sunday's plan is brunch followed by a day party. Brunch? Great. The day party? Already a disaster before it begins. The line is wrapping around multiple blocks, and our storyteller takes one look and knows they're not getting in. She and her friend peel off to head back to the car — and that's when the universe delivers its first sign: she steps directly into a pile of vomit while wearing open-toed shoes. Disgusting, yes. But also, in retrospect, the universe saying girl, go home. She texts Malachi. He responds with shock. She assumes this means they're calling it a night. Reader, they did not call it a night.
The Parking Spot That Started Everything
Malachi decides the solution to missing the day party is tacos and margaritas at another spot — one they'd been trying to get into all weekend with zero success. But sure, let's try again. They drive over, and Malachi starts circling for parking. He spots a space, passes it, then whips a U-turn to come back for it. Problem: while he was turning around, another car was already reversing into that exact spot. Slowly, deliberately, legally claiming it. Malachi does not care. He pulls forward and takes the spot anyway, cutting them off mid-reverse. One of his friends in the backseat even calls it out — essentially asking if he's really about to do this. Malachi confirms: yes, absolutely, zero regrets. The other car just sits there, blocking traffic, not moving. Our storyteller, who is from New York and knows exactly how these situations can go, starts mentally preparing to get out of the car. She is already scared.
“if somebody says I got you they're not saying that to just pump up their chest and pump fake”
— the storyteller, on why she knew the threat was real
'I Got You' — Three Words That Should Have Ended the Night
After holding up traffic for a stretch that felt like forever, the other car finally starts backing up. Then they roll down the window, look directly at Malachi, say 'I got you,' and speed off. That's it. No yelling, no immediate confrontation — just those three words and they're gone. Our storyteller immediately asks Malachi what he thinks that means. His response is essentially: nothing, relax, those guys are too old to do anything, trust me. She does not trust him. Every instinct she has is screaming that 'I got you' is not a bluff. It's a promise. But she stays. She keeps trying to convince herself that Malachi knows what he's doing. Then one of his friends in the backseat notices the other car is circling the block — looping past her parked car again and again. Malachi's explanation? They're probably just looking for parking. Our storyteller knows better. They are not looking for parking.
“the vandalism wasn't even directed towards me because I was not the one driving”
— the storyteller, on the cruel irony of the situation
The Damage They Came Back To
Inside the venue, our storyteller spends the entire event trying to get Malachi to leave. She is uncomfortable, distracted, and convinced that something is happening to her car outside. Malachi is unbothered. He is not leaving. So she stays, miserable, waiting. When they finally walk out, they find her car completely destroyed. Every crevice keyed. A tire slashed. The license plate messed with. And here's the gut-punch detail that makes this whole thing worse: the vandalism wasn't even meant for her. She wasn't the one who stole the spot — Malachi was driving. Her car just happened to be the vehicle he was in. She paid the price for someone else's decision to steal a parking spot and then wave off every single warning sign that followed.
“you always follow your intuition and you protect yourself and your property over any and everything else”
— the storyteller, summing up her hard-earned lesson
How it unfolded
- Homecoming WeekendThe storyteller and her group spend the weekend going to events around D.C. with Malachi driving her car the entire time.
- The Line & The VomitSunday's day party has an impossibly long line; the storyteller steps in vomit and assumes the night is over.
- The Stolen SpotMalachi whips a U-turn and cuts off a car that was already reversing into a parking space, stealing the spot outright.
- 'I Got You'The displaced drivers roll down their window, say 'I got you' directly to Malachi, and speed away — a threat the storyteller takes seriously and Malachi dismisses.
- The Circling CarInside the venue, one of Malachi's friends notices the other car repeatedly looping past their parked vehicle; Malachi still refuses to leave.
- The DamageWhen the group exits, they find the storyteller's car keyed across every surface, a tire slashed, and the license plate tampered with.
- The ReckoningThe storyteller reflects that her instincts were right from the moment she heard 'I got you,' and that trusting someone else's judgment cost her dearly.
Our take
Malachi is the real story here, and we are not going to be gracious about it. He cut someone off mid-reverse — already one of the boldest acts of parking lot audacity we've ever heard — and then when that person came back with a direct threat, when a car started circling the block like it had nowhere else to be, he shrugged it off and kept the party going. And here's the part we cannot get past: it wasn't even his car on the line. He had nothing to lose. She had everything to lose. Her gut was already sending signals before they even walked in — the vomit, the threat, the circling — and somehow the collective decision was to stay anyway. We get it, nobody wants to be the one who drags everyone home early. But that unease in your chest isn't anxiety being dramatic. It's information. The clearest lesson this story leaves us with: when someone says "I got you" right after you've wronged them, that is not a figure of speech. That is a promise. Go home.
Your gut doesn't speak in full sentences — sometimes it speaks in vomit and circling cars and three-word threats. Learn the language before someone else's bad decision costs you everything.
Questions people ask
What happened to the car that was vandalized after the DC parking spot incident?
The car was keyed across every crevice, had a tire slashed, and the license plate was damaged — all while the group was inside a nearby venue.
Is stealing a parking spot from someone reversing into it illegal?
Laws vary by location, but cutting off a driver who is actively reversing into a space is widely considered a serious violation of parking etiquette and can be considered aggressive driving in some jurisdictions.
What does 'I got you' mean as a threat?
In this context, 'I got you' was used as a warning that the other party intended to retaliate — and as the storyteller noted, it was not a bluff.
