Absurdity of the Day
On my way to a hearing this morning on the North side. Pull into the parking-lot near the courthouse, a lined, asphalt-field of bountiful bodaciousness. Always plenty of room to maneuver the vehicle. Lots of space on either side of the parking spot, so as to avoid nasty door scrapes. Basically, a parking pleasure-hunter's paradise--a valet's Valhalla.
Alas, though I am 10 minutes early, there are no spots to be found. Damnit.
I continue to drive around the otherside of the compound--nadda. Check the clock: 8 minutes 'til docket call. Need to move.
Begrudgingly, I drive across the street to the other building temporarily housing various courts of law. Little did I realize what kind of Gordian Knot I'd tied myself into. If the other parking lot was the lush, green grape fields of Southern Greece near the Aegean, this lot was King Minos' labrynth. I half expected a Minotaur to round the corner and beat my 4Runner with his freakish hoove-hands. There were so many tin-can rust-buckets zig-zagging down driving lanes and zooming around blind corners that my driving began to resemble that motorcycle scene from the movie Tron. How I wish my car left in its wake a laser wall capable of de-resing the assholes darting to and fro looking aimlessly for a vacant parking spot.
A long line of honking, revving automobiles formes in front of me. Like the Barbarian in Gauntlet, I've managed to cut my way through the endless phantasm horde and find the exit to this maze of madness. The time: 2 minutes to docket call. Freakin' damnit to hell.
Eventually I make my way to an auxiliary parking lot in butt-freakin' Egypt. This is the worst of the three parking lots--it is the boneyard behind Palace Minos, where the good king disposes of his adversaries' remains. As I click-clack, click clack across the gravel lot in my J&Ms, I walk right past the Minotaur's lair. I look up at the sign for the parking lot from which I just escaped.
Then it hits me. This is the parking lot--for the traffic court. Your sentence begins when you bring your car through its dark gates. The irony was not lost on me for one second.
From here on out, I resolve to be a better driver. Just so I can avoid ever having to park my car at traffic court again.
Alas, though I am 10 minutes early, there are no spots to be found. Damnit.
I continue to drive around the otherside of the compound--nadda. Check the clock: 8 minutes 'til docket call. Need to move.
Begrudgingly, I drive across the street to the other building temporarily housing various courts of law. Little did I realize what kind of Gordian Knot I'd tied myself into. If the other parking lot was the lush, green grape fields of Southern Greece near the Aegean, this lot was King Minos' labrynth. I half expected a Minotaur to round the corner and beat my 4Runner with his freakish hoove-hands. There were so many tin-can rust-buckets zig-zagging down driving lanes and zooming around blind corners that my driving began to resemble that motorcycle scene from the movie Tron. How I wish my car left in its wake a laser wall capable of de-resing the assholes darting to and fro looking aimlessly for a vacant parking spot.
A long line of honking, revving automobiles formes in front of me. Like the Barbarian in Gauntlet, I've managed to cut my way through the endless phantasm horde and find the exit to this maze of madness. The time: 2 minutes to docket call. Freakin' damnit to hell.
Eventually I make my way to an auxiliary parking lot in butt-freakin' Egypt. This is the worst of the three parking lots--it is the boneyard behind Palace Minos, where the good king disposes of his adversaries' remains. As I click-clack, click clack across the gravel lot in my J&Ms, I walk right past the Minotaur's lair. I look up at the sign for the parking lot from which I just escaped.
Then it hits me. This is the parking lot--for the traffic court. Your sentence begins when you bring your car through its dark gates. The irony was not lost on me for one second.
From here on out, I resolve to be a better driver. Just so I can avoid ever having to park my car at traffic court again.
tale spun by Cherith Cutestory at 9:18 AM
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