About a year ago, I was on my way over to E.P. Foster Library, and I went to the free parking section behind it. As I was going through the upper level, every single parking space was completely taken, it was really cramped. There is another level of parking reserved for the library itself, so I headed down there. When I was on the downward ramp part, just before turning in to the lower section, my dad stops me like something’s about to happen.
“Wait, wait, something’s up, I feel it in the wind… Wait for it… Wait for it… Oh, yes. There she is, she‘s a real beut’, isn‘t she? Just look at that perfect form!”
What he was referring to was a white truck pulling out of a spot at the end of the section, a spot that was now in our sights. So we waited there for a minute to let this white truck out, and then went down off the ramp toward the now open space.
Halfway there, some PTA-looking lady swung her arms, directing me to the space I was obviously already heading for, the only open space in the lot. As I closed the gap, I was just about to pull in, when some try-hard “hip” twenty-something mom wearing a Nyan Cat shirt and holding the hand of her son pointed at the open spot and then physically walked right into it, intending to save it for someone.
This immediately infuriated my dad, so he rolled down the back seat window, “WHAT! NO, NO! THAT’S OUR SPOT, WE WERE HEADED THERE FIRST! YOU GET OUT OF THERE! WE WERE JUST ABOUT TO GET IN THERE!”
Meanwhile, I’m there in the driver seat trying to cover my face and look off to the side, it was really awkward. The PTA-looking lady from before came over to our defense, “sorry,” she told the “hip” mom, “I just directed them into that spot.”
Defeated, the “hip” mom departed with her spawn, and we finally secured the spot. The whole experience was just one awkward glimpse into the adult world of petty childishness.