03.08.18 Tampa Bay’s Bureau Chief’s Desk

I recently learned that I’m a monster. Before I get too far into how, I’d first like to thank readers for choosing me as Tampa Bay’s favorite LGBTQ–friendly writer in Watermark’s annual WAVE Awards. It’s a category I share with some very talented writers, like my Central Florida counterpart and syntax sister, Jeremy Williams. He’ll never let me win again.

It’s my goal as the Tampa Bay bureau chief to represent our community and our allies to the best of my ability, something I couldn’t do without all of you. I’m very proud to be in the position that I’m in, and so grateful that I get to learn so much from the community that we’re here to serve.

With that being said, I’m a monster and it’s too late to change your vote.

My husband and I live in a modest St. Petersburg apartment complex, built sometime between 1634 and 1971. It’s outdated but large; cheap but full of character. As an added bonus, you can rent a covered parking space for a mere $25 per month. It allows you to dryly unload groceries in the inevitable Florida rain or give your car a break from the state’s subsequent and glaring sun.

We don’t rent the space—because like our apartment complex, I’m also cheap but full of character. But more so because you’re free to utilize them as long as they aren’t being rented. Why spend the money when you can play parking roulette?

We’ve lived in the complex for over a year now, and more often than not, snagging a covered spot has been relatively easy. That changed a few months ago when new neighbors moved in with a van full of children and absolutely no regard for my unspoken rule that the spot they rented on the end was mine. I hated them immediately.

There were other covered spots, and even uncovered spots that were closer to our apartment. I begrudgingly used both, typically parking in the last uncovered spot next to “my” spot that they’d stolen. So close and yet so far.

Almost daily I lambasted their thievery from beside them—because on top of it all, their parking jobs were terrible, just atrocious. The covered area has two poles on the end, and within days we’d noticed that they’d been parking so close to the right that they’d struck them several times.

I judged them incessantly for the dents in their car, made even deeper by way of the covered area’s poles, as if I don’t drive a Chevy Dentbalt that’s nearly a decade old.

Until the note.

A handwritten, postcard-size note—tucked beneath my windshield wiper in beautiful penmanship by our neighbor who’d stolen everything from me. It cheerfully greeted me and moved to an apologetic tone, acknowledging their ridiculous parking with a tender explanation.

“The beautiful couple that parks to our left is handicapped,” it advised me, something I knew. They’re wonderful people and one of them works for our complex. “Since one of them is in a wheelchair, I park as far to the right as I can and remove my children from that side of the car so they’re comfortable.”

“If you could also park as far to your right as possible, I’d greatly appreciate the extra room,” it continued, moving to the real gut punch. “As I’m sure you would, too! Thank you so much!” Monster.

It was an important reminder that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, nor a driver by their parking skills. I’ve gladly parked as far to the right as possible ever since, and I’ve gone out of my way to express to our neighbors just how thoughtful they are.

And on the topic of expressing gratitude for thoughtfulness, that’s exactly what our readers have done for our community. In this issue we examine a plethora of non-monsters that were chosen as recipients of this year’s WAVE Awards. Congratulations to each winner and to the top three finalists—the work you do is important and it makes this community strong.

Also doing their part is the thriving Manatee Pride, now in their fifth year, which we examine in Tampa Bay news. Over in Orlando, we take a look at the future of the popular Gay Days event and some upcoming changes.

In Arts and Entertainment, you’re gonna love Syreeta Banks as she leads Dreamgirls to the Venice Theater—and be sure not to miss the musical sensation Nunsense as it heads to the Winter Park Playhouse.

Watermark strives to bring you a variety of stories, your stories. I hope you enjoy this latest issue.