I'm not your bitch, don't hang your shit on me.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Parking lottery

Whenever I have to find a parking spot in a busy lot, inevitably, the car is placed either in the boondocks, or beside two old, gas-guzzling clunkers that were made in the Nixon administration.

Not this time, I think. This time will be different.

It’s midday in the middle of the week, and mostly everyone is still at work. While the parking lot of the supermarket I go to isn’t very large, most of the shoppers – not surprisingly – tend to place their cars as close to the door as possible. Sometimes I think they’d park them inside if it was possible.

As I look for a spot, I notice all the mommy cars are out today: minivans and SUVs. These big and clumsy vehicles are always driven by over-stressed people who would gladly throw their ADD-riddled kids out the window if it means they can get some peace and quiet on the ride home.

And they can easily squish my car in half if they wish.

Near the back, there’s a row that has few vehicles. It’s best to leave my car there. There’s no one on either side, which relaxes me since - knowing my bad luck with other cars doing unmentionable things to mine - I know a careless kid can hit it by widely opening a huge door.

Unfortunately, I’m never there when they do it to jot down their licence plate info.

After I’m done my grocery shopping, I head to the cashier and when in line, I look out the large expanse of windows that line a wall at the front of the store.

Where’s my car, I wonder. Ten minutes ago, I left it in a sea of asphalt. It was all alone in the parking Pakistan, with nothing around.

Taking another good look around, I see there are a minivan on one side and an SUV on the other.

Fuck. Those mother-driving-SUV fuckers. Couldn’t they find anywhere else to go? Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck.

What’s odd is there aren’t other cars around my car; just the minivan and the SUV. The colour combination looks like an automotive Oreo, with my car as the filling. It’s like the other drivers purposely parked their vehicles beside mine.

What’s really odd is there are dozens of spots, even a few close to the door of the market.

When I get back to my car, I place my bags in the back seat and walk around the car, making sure these bitches didn’t “accidentally” open a door too far and make an unnecessary crease in the swoopy styling of my car.

Thankfully, they didn’t.

Before I go inside my car, I kick one of the alloy wheels of the SUV.

Just in case… for next time.


Blogger Timmy said...

careful, dont hurt your foot!

October 13, 2006 7:32 am  
Anonymous jason (from the U.S.) said...

Now now, don't get all huffy. Look at it this way, if there were someone around that wanted to steal cars, they'd go for the BIG ones first because they bring more on the chop market.

Then you can point and laugh at Soccer Mom and her lack of child-hauling capabilities.

I'd do it. Bee-yotches...;0)

October 13, 2006 8:55 am  
Blogger Kevin said...

Maybe you have SUV stalkers!

October 13, 2006 9:21 am  
Blogger Lemuel said...

Ya gotta get you licks (or kicks in this case) in while you can.

I assume that the SUV anti-theft alarm sensitivity was set low enough that you did not set it off.

October 13, 2006 10:15 am  
Blogger Steven said...

Indy: It was just a (sorta) little kick.

JUS: That thought never went through my head, actually.

Six: I think they follow me around, like a gang of thugs.

Lemuel: I never thought of that.

October 13, 2006 1:47 pm  
Anonymous Jason said...

At least you're not surrounded by muscle cars and with the fuzzy dice and the bouncing bullshit wheels.

October 13, 2006 4:03 pm  

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