My Friday: Blocked in by a meth-head, attacked by a pit bull, and beat up by a tattooed behemouth

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My Friday ended rather strangely. I had just dropped off my afternoon kid client when I returned to my SUV, only to find it blocked in by a small sedan. The Mexican guys on the balcony were telling me in broken English that I'd stolen someone's parking place and that she was mad. They laughed. I said "Gracias" and saw an angry looking woman walking a massive pit bull. Oh snap, she's the one with that shirtless multi-tattoooed boyfriend, I thought. I approached her and asked "Is that your car?" in my most neutral voice. "You're in my parking place," she said, trying to sound angry. "Oh sorry," I said. "I was just dropping off a kid." She tried to muster a bit more anger, but couldn't, as by then her huge dog, with its massive square head, had come over and was beating me with its (not clipped) tail, which was wagging wildly. "He has to do his business, then I'll move my car," she said flatly, possibly trying to punish me a bit further for my parking atrocity. "Oh, did you get to have a glorious pee, and you're glad to see mom?" I said to the dog in my talking-to-a-dog voice, who licked my hand and continued to beat me with his wagging tail. He seemed to be enjoying life in general. By then, her anger was gone. "They're really tight about parking places here," she said. "No way for me to know where guest parking is?" I asked. "At my place, they're the ones with no roofs." "No, they don't make it clear," she replied. Within a couple of minutes, she had unblocked me, and I was out of there, listening to jazz on KCSM, and looking forward to a glass of wine. My worst-case scenario hadn't materialized, and I was glad that I am generally pretty good at diffusing awkward situations. And that dogs tend to like me.