parking

Last Friday afternoon, it was super busy downtown. Going to the bank, the Post Office, and Foodland required all the patience I had. It was truly an epic battle between the angel and devil on my shoulders. I had to bite my tongue, I had to breathe, I had to count to ten in my head. But, like a big boy, I made it through without throttling anybody or yelling at random strangers.

Of course, I had a little bit of help. As I searched hopelessly for a parking spot, ANY parking spot, the waters of the Red Sea magically parted, and the spot in front of the Post Office opened up. THE spot. I almost ran over a lady carrying her groceries to get it, and she had some choice expletives for me which suggested I should have relations with some kind of goat….but it was all worth it. I parked my truck in the parking slot that we all dream of having, but rarely have the opportunity to get. It was a little like winning the lottery.

I went into the Post Office, and the lineup was to the door. Was I mad? NO! I had an awesome parking spot! I passed the time chatting with the people in line, some I knew, others I didn’t. They were all wondering why I was so ‘chilled out’ about waiting in line. ‘Relax!’ I’d exclaim to all those who’d listen (and, to be honest, also to those who didn’t want to listen). I’d point outside and say, ‘See that truck? That’s my truck. I’m parked right there!’ The ladies in line seemed nonplussed, but the guys appeared, for the most part, impressed. After obtaining my items, we all kind of gravitated outside to see my perfect parking spot. As I put my parcels in the truck, other cars were stopping, indicating they were ready and willing to park there if I was leaving. I waved them all off, showing them I had other things to go do.

In truth, I didn’t. I just wasn’t ready to part with my spot. Well, then, off to Foodland I went. While there, every ten minutes or so, I’d leave my cart to peek outside and check out if my truck was doing okay. There it was, parked proudly, perfectly, in the most prestigious spot in The Falls. And, eventually, I brought my purchases to my vehicle, at which point other vehicles again indicated they wanted to park there. Nay, nay! I still wasn’t ready to leave.

I was a little hungry, so I went for a slice of pizza, and sat in my truck, eating my slice and drinking a cold pop, looking around me and admiring just how perfect my vantage point was. That is one busy corner!! People coming and going, cars, truck, vans, taxis all going to and fro. I put down my window and chatted with various people I knew. But, eventually my pizza was done, and I no longer had a reason to be parked there. And so, I did the only sane thing that same to mind… I walked home with my purchases. Twice, in fact, because I had so many things to carry. Oh, I probably could have made just one trip, but it was a nice day.

My wife was looking at me strangely when I walked through the door, dropped my bags, then turned around and left. She called me on my cell phone. I explained, rationally, why I was walking to get my things. She indicated to me that she didn’t think quite the same way. Ah, well…to each his own.

After everything was home and unpacked, I explained again to Anne how my truck was in a prime spot, how it had to stay there, how she needed to give me a ride to my truck occasionally so I could enjoy my spot. Sadly, she disagreed. She said I was being silly. That I had to eventually give up the spot, so that someone else could use it….someone that actually needed it. She said I had to grow up. It was a tough moment, as she drove me to pick up my vehicle. I’m not sure I’ll ever get that spot again. But, even though I was forced to grow up, I still held inside me the belief that, maybe, just maybe, I’ll get it back one day. And if I do….I just won’t tell my wife about it!

 

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Comments
  1. jennypellett says:

    Ha Ha! I so know what you mean – makes you feel better for days, doesn’t it?

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