You’re in a crowded parking lot, wondering where all these other people came from, and why they decided to come to the same place that you need to shop. You drive as slow as your car will allow, keeping a sharp eye out for that elusive vacant parking space so that you may get your errands done. As you drive, you pray to your respective deity for a space, but your hope wanes, and you begin to contemplate parking at the McDonalds across the street.
But then, eureka, there it is! You’ve won. You’re the winner of the parking lot lottery. There’s the space of your dreams. You swear it has a bright aura emanating from it’s…wait…what...there’s a MINI COOPER in your space. You curse, grumble, and move on, wishing you had a voodoo doll for the owner of that blasted “hidden car.”
Yes, the hidden car is the bane of all drivers’ existence. It taunts us, thwarting our noble goal of parking our vehicle. You can (and should) hate a Ford Expedition for its gas-guzzling, planet-killing properties, but at least it’ll never be a hidden car.
So, while a Ford Expedition will never be a hidden car...
...my Ford Focus hatchback is. I hadn’t realized this until recently, when two friends brought it to my attention. It seems that the Ford Focus had been the culprit in many a hidden car situation for them. And when I learned that my pride and joy was an evil hidden car, I felt such shame. How could this be? How many people have I thwarted in their attempts to park? How could I go on with life?
So, friends, I make a pledge to you and world:
I, Warren, shall park my car with its hidden car properties in mind. I shall never pull to the very front of the space, so that I may ensure that my car’s back end shall be visible by all who pass by. If I do not adhere to this procedure, may the consequence be dire.
May I get stuck behind a driver going five miles under the speed limit—in the fast lane!
May my grocery store cashier need to do a price check. On. Every. Item. In. My. Cart.
May I get bothered by salesmen of cell phones, European lotions, expensive fragrance and anything else that the mall has in its arsenal.
May the bartender inform me that they do not carry the only beers that I drink, but let them be in amble supply Natty Light.
May I fill up my car’s tank, only to see gas for cheaper down the road.
May I be subject to any and all other punishments that the Parking Lot Gods see fit if I single-handily cause yet another hidden car situation.
Friends, I trust you will keep me accountable with this pledge. Thanks in advance.
No comments:
Post a Comment