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My favorite parking lot

The other night I went to my favorite photocopying establishment. Just so there's no confusion, let me clarify that by favorite, I don't mean something you love above all others. I mean favorite, like something that makes you want to have a temper tantrum on somebody's head. And since, we're clarifying, it's not so much the establishment itself that's my favorite, it's the parking lot associated with it. Let me tell you why.

It was December 18, 2003, mid-day. I went to said establishment to make a color photocopy. This establishment is part of a strip mall on a major street, and has some crazy-ass parking. It's a strip mall with like six stores, and it's got one of those take-a-ticket-the-arm-goes-up-jobs when you go in, and a person collecting your money when you go out. Which is part of why I generally head to a different branch of the establishment, because who the hell installs a take-a-ticket-the-arm-goes-up-jobs at a strip mall? But, I was in a hurry, and my cheapness was satisfied when I drove up to the take-a-ticket-the-arm-goes-up-job and the sign on it said:
First 1/2 hour Free

So I press the button, I take the ticket, the arm goes up, and I go in the lot and park the car. I go into the establishment for five minutes. Max. I get in my car and pull up to the exit kiosk. I give her my ticket and wait her for her to raise the arm for me to leave. But instead, things got very Meet the Parents. You know that part when Gaylord Focker decides he's sick of jumping through hoops and starts to head back to Chicago? And the gate agent won't let him board until she's called his row, even though there's no one else waiting to board? And when she finally calls his row and he hands her his ticket, she acts like she's never seen him before? Yeah, like that.

So I give the attendant my ticket, and wait for the arm to go up.
"Three dollars, please."
"But I was parked less than half an hour."
"We don't have a grace period. You'll have to pay three dollars."
"It says first half hour free."
"Did you go to a store here?"
No, I just like to sit in strip mall parking lots, especially the kind with take-a-ticket-the-arm-goes-up-jobs. "Yes"
"The store has to validate the ticket for it to be free parking for the first half hour."
"So, you want me to back up, park the car, go back to the store and get this validated?"
"Yes."

Let me mention that by this time, another car had gotten in line behind me. But there was no way I was giving that woman three dollars. So that car had to back up. Then I backed up far enough to get into one of the angled parking spaces. I walked into the establishment, where, on the counter, for everyone and their mother to use, was the validation stamp. I stamped the damn ticket, got back in the damn car, drove the thirty feet to the damn kiosk, and wordlessly handed the ticket back to the attendant. She then had the nerve to study it, like she hadn't seen it and discussed it two minutes before.

And that concludes the story of my favorite parking lot.

Posted by Shokufeh at March 19, 2004 12:25 PM