Friday, January 29, 2010

Leaving Home

My morning started out as typical as you could expect; my generic Verizon ringtone woke me up, I made my bed, got ready, and rushed out of the house with a bag of cookies to substitute my nutritional breakfast. Who has time to actually sit down and eat breakfast anyway? I started my car, only to hear the daily rattling of some loose mechanism hanging from the underneath of my ten year old piece of junk, some people might commonly refer to as an automobile. I wouldn't go so far as to call it that, rather than a worthless piece of junk that has the ability to get me from point A to point B. I guess I can't complain, though. Some people don't even have a rusty pile of junk to call their own. I can't say that I was happy or sad this morning; pretty neutral in my emotions today. As the beat of Cascada intensified on the radio, I found my mood suddenly pick up, and my dance moves, that are slightly restricted from the seatbelt, came into full force...until someone at the stop light next to me gave me a weird look, of course. Back to driving like a "normal person" I went, whatever that means. As I was taking the the 45 minute trek to school this morning, I began noticing all the musty smells in my car, the dust on the dashboard, the napkins on the floor...how long has it been since I cleaned this thing?

I approached school, with only 15 minutes until the start of my first class. Past experiences have led me to believe that I am actually a lucky person when it comes to finding parking spots in this mad house. I pulled into the Fine Arts parking lot, with all intentions of getting a spot quickly and making it to class on time. I raced around the parking lot at speeds of most likely 50 miles per hour, trying to beat all of the other cars to that person walking. No luck! I began to give up and was thinking that I just might have to park at the bottom of campus, and dare I say it?...TAKE THE BUS!

As I headed out towards the exit, my little Nissan Altima, spotted its home. Two people walking by getting ready to leave. The Altima followed them for what seemed like a mile. We made it to the spot... I put the blinker on and sat there while the other people backed out. Finally, I found a place to house my car for the day, and with time to spare until class. When all of a sudden, a red bullet flies by in my peripheral vision. Next thing I know, this car has pulled into my spot. To say the least, I was in complete disbelief.

Of course I couldn't just give up on my car. After all that was her home first! So what else could I do, but block this car in, get out of my car, and yell! Well when that failed, and he felt no remorse for what he had done, I went to find another spot. We left our home and ventured off to find another parking spot. Ironically, I found a spot right behind the "spot stealer," as I now refer to him as. He was still in his car when he parked, so I wrote a few choice words on some post-it notes and stuck them to his windshield.



The Altima does not leave her home without a fight!

2 comments:

  1. I can completely relate to this incident in the parking lot! I am also a big leave a note on the car person. Your story has a solid beginning, middle and end. My suggestion would be to take out the first few sentences and start with the sentence, "I started my car...". The design of your blog is easy to follow. I like pic and Bob Dylan quote. You may want to add pics to each post, just to give the reader a visual connection to your stories.

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