Parking. Never discussed. You don’t pickup the newspaper, read about parking. You don’t drive into work, go to break with friends, talk parking. It’s a mundane, thoughtless, have to kinda thing for us all.
I kinda sorta disagree. I think parking is a very interesting topic.
Back in the High School day, parking meant going to the low road at the college, pulling into the lot, a fully clothed adventure, where arms, lips, tongues went bonkers.. and pretty much anything could happen up to knocking the 11 sizes too big class ring adorned with 42’ of yarn to affirm it to your finger was in jeopardy of falling off. Innocent, yet oh so passionate.
To many, parking is an afterthought. Not so to some. BY GOD I’M GONNA GET THE VERY CLOSEST SPOT TO WALLYWORLD even if I haveta spend $12.73 in gas to do so. And some do.
My pa usedta tell me, since he didn’t really exercise, on sale’s calls, he’d pick the furthest spot, park, walk in.
Arrogant parkers. Never fails. You’re in a lot with 492 spaces, you FINALLY see a lone, empty space, you drive there, you turn.. Oh shit, that guy’s tires are like 12” over the line. Arrogant bastard. I mean really, how can one do that? (Victor, it’s JUST parking, ease up).. NO! it’s TIME, it’s ARROGANCE, it’s HOWINTHEHELL can you consciously take up one and one-third spots and walk into wherever you are walking into? (Occasionally I’ll purposely park right beside ‘em so close you’d have to be Twiggy to get into your passenger door.. a fitting/deserved lesson: “Crawl urass into the passenger side door Mister, and I hope the gearshift crunches your kahoona’s as you move to the driver’s side!)
Tonight at the Dish Pizza joint. (Victor, you went there again? Didn’t you just go last night?) Uh huh, did. Tonight at the Dish. A smoke and a beer on the patio, and parking observance.
Family of four. Pull in, parking not bad. Ten seconds, mom/dad/two snotnoses outta car, dad is like 10 yards in front leading the pack, with not apparent regard to the remaining family behind him.. Made me think “hmmm, I bet he’s the guy that says “oh honey, that meal was great, go prop your feet up and American Idol”.. or mebbe, “Hey, you cooked last night, I got it handled tonight.” Uh huh.
Anuther family of four. Out jumps pops, the driver, and before anyone else’s car door opened, his at the right rear door unstrapping the carseated baby to haul her in. Way cool Mister, I bet you ARE onea those guys to do/say all that in the above paragraph.
The drop off illegal parker. Guilty, I am/have been. Rather than communicate, “I’ll be down that row at the first available space I find” I’ll challenge a yellowed curb, park right up next to the building, absorb dirty looks, to wait for “I’m just getting a couple things, I’ll be right back.” Hey, I don’t have AC in my car OK? I get mad when it ain’t me, but justify it when it is.
The ding-ding, not-so-great-depth perception parker. We’ve all been there. We pull in, we get too close, or mebbe the wind catches our door as we open it.. BOOM.. oh shit, there’s a mark from my door on the car next to me! Uh huh, I’ll back out, go find another spot. Had a buddy in college, no names (Bill Day) one time, he pulled into a parking spot, actually winged the rear bumper of the car on his left leaving a very noticeable dent… he peeked around.. mebbe six people saw this… he got out a piece of paper, scribbled jibberish on it.. placed the ‘note’ under the windshield wipers of the car he just smashed, and all six who observed this thought “awwww. What a nice guy, he’s fessing up.”.. Then, he backed out, moved 7 rows to the East, and on about his way.
Parking at work. We (on the West side) have rules about which direction to enter, go, turn, park… “high visibility vehicles must park away from the building so as not to obstruct the view”… patooey…
Even worse.. our West Side football field sized lot (hourly) and an East Side a basketball court sized lot hella close to the door (Salaried, commissioned, must have a penis, $40K+ car).. I honestly love where I work, what I do, and who I do it for.. however… we’re still in the 1950’s on this one.
In closing, thanks for parking your eyeballs here for a short. Mebbe u too can have some fun observing fellow future parkers. (I know… I lead a horribly boring life.) Pulling in, parking, getting out now.
Love, Victurd.
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