This vs. That

There exists only a handful of things in this life that REALLY piss me off. Finding my neighbor's white Jetta parked in my spot when I get home is one such thing on my list of ultimate aggravations. This morning was the second time she committed this offense. And today at 7:30 am with bed hair gone rogue and mascara on my forehead, it was the last fucking thing I wanted to deal with. So you know what I did? I wrote a note and stuck it on her windshield! She'll think twice next time before messing with me! I made sure to mention that she could park there if she cleared it by me via text first. And I left her my number.

vs.

My friend's mother (we will call her Trinity because writing "my friend's mother" any more would exhaust me) was at the store during grocery rush hour, which is what, 6:45 pm any day of the week? We've all seen what happened next dozens of times, perhaps recounted our own versions while sloshing over a third glass of vino, filled a little too generously. After circling around for what seemed like ages, Trinity finally happened upon a vacant space. And then some skank in a white Escalade barreled around the corner, stealing the spot. Subsequent negotiations proved futile, and Trinity had to watch as the thieving harlot clack-clack-clacked away, clicking her remote lock for a blatant bleep or two. So what did Trinity do? I probably would have thanked the Escaladian bitch and given her a hug, but my friend's flaxen-haired matriarch quickly evolved into fierce warrior. After finally parking her own car, Trinity skulked toward the parked Escalade with the viciousness of Angelina Jolie, keys in hand, and scraped her rage into each side of the resting beast. Having left a most poignant note, Trinity proceeded inside where she dreamily filled her cart with things like orange juice not from concentrate.

How can I go from being this to being that?