Just Another Parking Lot Experience

The fact that he parked too close to my car and didn’t bother to re-adjust his parking was…weird in a ‘shit-happens’ sort of way. The fact that he opened the door and, surprise surprise, it only opened like ten inches which meant there wasn’t enough space for him to get out was…expected. That A GROWN-ass man would try and squeeze himself through a space the size of one he came out from when he was a baby is beyond me. That propriety dictates that I not laugh hysterically at this impropriety is too much to ask of a mere mortal. But I tried. Lawrd knows that’s always been my problem; attempting the impossible. Straight-backed, eyes straight forward, all focus on keeping my muscles at attention, willing them not to relax into so much as a smile. He is practically scratching the paint off my car now, but I can’t even come to it’s defense because any sudden movements will be my undoing. Then he groaned. That was it. The integrity of my conduct in society had been stretched too far. I don’t even know whether to call it a groan or a moan, or-it was some unintelligible sound that he started making repeatedly. I grabbed my cellphone (thank you, Divine intervention, for seeing to it that it wasn’t in my handbag where I would have had to fumble for it for at least a few minutes) and started talking mid-conversation. I was already laughing.
“Oh..My…Gawd!! Did that really happen?” Through stitches of laughter. Then the man had the indecency to start staring at me as if to catch me out on my fake phone call. I, of course, find it rude to stare so I kept looking straight ahead but could feel his eyes boring into my side-profile. At this point, he was too far out to go back in, but still in enough to not be able to go out all the way. He was stuck. His labour pain cries then became realler than real, and I could not keep up the phone conversation any longer. Between my indecent hurls I could hardly catch my breath, let alone have enough to form a word. I got out of my car. I got out and stumbled away, drunk with mirth. I am sorry, this is as close to an ending as I can give you on this account. I can’t say I know what became of that man. He and his car were gone by the time I came back, but they left a huge deposit in my laughter account, and a scar on my car.

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One Response to Just Another Parking Lot Experience

  1. Pingback: The Night We Cried « Black Rose

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