Saturday, August 14, 2010

I Have to Curb My "Creative Parking"

Saturday, August 14, 2010
Recently, I went to a local lab for some blood work. Parking is in a structure, and empty spots close to the entrance are usually in short supply. And if you allow just enough time to get to the appointment, like I do, you need a spot close to the door. So, if I don’t see a parking spot as I drive up the ramp, I end up parking in an area that’s not designated as such.

No, it’s nowhere near a handicapped spot – I’d never park there! It’s just an out-of-the-way mini lane that happens to be conveniently empty almost every time I’m there. So I make sure I have my purse and magazines, or whatever else I think I’ll need, in my hands, and I pull in very quickly. Then, if no other cars or people are right there, I get out in a hurry and walk briskly to the door. If there are cars or people going past me, I stay very still until they’re gone, and then I leave my car. Well, that’s what I did the other day. It’s like a little game that I enjoy winning.

When I leave the lab, I stand at the entrance to the garage, as if I’m waiting for someone. And then, when the cars and people clear out, I scurry like a rat to my car, get in, start the engine and pull out as quickly as I can. If a guard passes before I can get out of my spot, I’ll sit there with my flashers on, as if I’m picking someone up. Have I got this down, or what?

Well, this time, I was hot and dying of thirst. So as I drove down the ramp, I grabbed the Diet Coke that had been in my purse while I walked the length of the hospital to the garage and unscrewed the cap. And – you guessed it - because of the jostling it took on my walk, it exploded as I unscrewed it. Before I could get the cap back on, the spray was everywhere. It was on the radio knobs, heat controls, dashboard, steering wheel, console, clock, windshield, ceiling and carpeting. And it was all over my pants. I couldn’t run the errands I’d planned for on the way home, and I was miserably uncomfortable in those pants.

It hit me immediately that the Universe was telling me it had had enough of my parking lot etiquette breaches. Okay, I got the message!


Sherrie said...

Ha! Scott is a master of creative parking. Maybe it's genetic? Does this mean he's passed the creative parking gene on to our kids? It drives me nuts! I'm such a 'do it by the rules' person that I would telegraph my creative parking guilt to any person in a 10-mile I just don't do it.

Editing4U said...

Yeah, maybe it is genetic. I used to do it at work all the time 'til I got kicked out of the garage for 60 days! That was a bummer, since it added at least 10 mins. to my trip in to work every day. And where I was parking should've been a legit spot!

Lisa said...

Do you know how crazy you are? All the precautions! (laughing) I do that in public bathrooms and it starts from the second I grab paper towel and soap, unless I have sanitary wipes with me. "Who's watching or can hear me BEFORE I go into the stall while I prepare to sanitize all?" Then the wait for privacy. The other day I waited while a lady was talking to what I thought was a child in the stall with her. No other little feet or voices came out though and I realized she must have been on her cell. About five minutes later I realized she was crazy and holding whisper conversations with herself. Finally I gave in and she was still in there by the time I washed and left.

Editing4U said...

No, Lisa, you're the one who's crazy! LOL Only you would talk about your bathroom habits on a blog! You find crazies in bathrooms, and I find them everywhere else. Or, maybe it's just me . . .

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