An almost-four-year update:
Charged here yesterday mid-afternoon. The Aberdeen SpC instantly became simultaneously our very favorite and the most disgusting one we’ve ever experienced.
It didn’t hurt in obtaining the #1 spot that we’re in the middle of a stretch of the most perfect weather imaginable: mid-60s and a deep blue sky to forever.
Well enough, but that every one of the stalls allows us to pull straight in, with close to an acre of open maneuvering space to our rear: unsurpassable!
But...this is Aberdeen, a blighted PNW urban area. And adjacent to the SpC power center has been placed an outhouse. Those two factors combine to make it unavoidably perfect for a squatters’ camp.
“No problem, no matter,” thought I.
Boy, was I wrong. While Jenny and 3 1/2 y-o Gus stayed in the Model X, I satisfied my curiosity at the contents of the kitty-corner parklet (mentioned up-thread, I see).
Heading off thereto, as I approached the corner traffic signal, a passing pickup tapped its horns a number of times and from the homeless camp a pasty-skinned, doughy specimen arose, and, lifting her shirt, jiggle-danced her braless self to the truck.
Unpleasant, but I dismissed it as harmless enough.
Upon returning from the park, however, I learned that that had been just the beginning of the show. Jenny told me Our Heroine had gone and performed a long-lasting, utterly complete strip tease specifically toward her and a perplexed, mystified Gus.
Yecch.