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It’s that time of year again: It’s high time we move out of the way to make room for some attitudes less friendly than most.

Bring on the entitlement! Living in Aspen has its ups and very few downs, one of which is dealing with other people’s rights to certain privileges.

I’ve written about some of Aspen’s favorite gripes, such as trail etiquette, the crosswalk gauntlet and just plain rude tourists. However, there’s one overarching idea that strings some of these gripes together and it’s entitlement.

Once the 4th of July arrived, Aspen’s summer was in full swing. The summer crowd is more relaxed and a little less high maintenance, probably because fur isn’t wearable during these months. The Cougars come out in their best white pants and bedazzled tops and the Aspen Old Dudes suddenly ride Harleys. It’s a happy time of year. 

I thought about what I could do to prepare myself for the impending wave of entitlement, but, quite frankly, there isn’t much one can do except grin and bear it. Some people are simply entitled to squawk loudly on the trails and on their cell phones in the grocery store, because, after all, it is a free country and they probably own a sizable share in said cell phone company. They own the rights to squawk.

I’ve had some great entitlement encounters over the years. I’ve witnessed everything from highfalutin’ older women cutting into the cookie line at the ballet to people blaming the restaurant du jour for the setting sun’s glare. A friend of mine even witnessed a child having a temper tantrum because he couldn’t have sushi for lunch. I’m sure that’s but the tip of the iceberg when it comes to tales of entitled behavior in these parts.

On the Fourth of July, I encountered a shiny new SUV with Texas plates parked in my parking space. I am lucky enough to have my very own parking spot in a parking garage. I thank my lucky stars that I don’t have to shovel much anymore, and that my car, the Priz, has a place to sleep comfortably at night.

When I met the entitlement-mobile who knowingly parked in a reserved spot, I became incensed. I wanted to kick the car and yell at it. “Hey, you big jerk! MOVE out of my spot! What makes you think you can park here?!”
Entitlement.

I think I kicked the tire, and in my deepest fit of anger, I left my half-drunk cup of coffee on the hood. “Take that!” 

I made a few phone calls, to no avail. After all, it was the Fourth of July. I wouldn’t have been so worried, but I needed to get into my storage unit. We had planned a rafting trip that day, and all of the gear, including the boat, lives in my storage unit, just in front of my parking spot.

My neighbor suggested I call a towing company. “Oh, but I can’t! I don’t have that power, do I?”

Oh, but I do, and I did. I was altogether too self-satisfied when Mr. Tow Truck Man finally got the fancy wheels onto the back of his rig. I even took a couple of pictures — I couldn’t help myself.

I can only picture the look on the owner’s face, as he or she walked up to the spot where the vehicle had been parked. Can you imagine the horror of finding a 1996 Geo Prism parked there instead? I towed a Texan. Na na na boo boo. 

What is it, other than money, that makes people feel like it’s their right to do whatever they please? Like they’re owed something? I don’t get it, and clearly I’m not a part of it. I guess membership really does have its privileges.

I think the only place entitlement doesn’t work is the post office. My friend Ted likes to call it the great equalizer of our time. The people who work there don’t care who you are. You’re just next in line. 

For the most part, we’re a happy little mountain community. Aspen is home to people of all walks of life, most of whom are generally nice and neighborly. Since life’s so good, we must dig deep to find flaws. Unfortunately, there will always be sour apples to ruin the bunch. If you’ve lived here for any length of time, I’m sure you have accumulated your own hall of shame stories.

Thankfully, these instances are relatively harmless, especially considering the state of the world around us. Just remember, I want an Oompa-Loompa too, but that doesn’t mean I’ll get one, not without waiting my turn like everyone else.