Adventures in a Parking Lot

I have been planning to write about my weekend with the little sis and how, sad but true, no performance art ensued during her visit. I guess the 2005 Fall Performance Art Edition was a no-go this year. However, our lovely visit did comprise of a boat trip to Catalina Island, major shopping and great food.

Our weekend also included the consumption of one too many Ketel One martinis by yours truly, resulting in actions such as kicking four empty 5-gallon water bottles around my garage Pele-style, shoving peanut butter sandwiches down my face and posting the “jumped into a river” entry late Friday night. Unfortunately my friends, I have absolutely no recollection of these events. Furthermore, I have NO idea why I entitled my entry ‘jumped into a river’. I don’t live near a river, nor was I planning to jump into one that evening. At least I don’t think so. You see, this is what happens when I foolishly think I can throw back the cocktails in the same manner as the good old days of high tolerance and a 24-year old liver.

Maybe I should lay off the sauce.

I am still planning on dishing out the details of our weekend excursion (including photos), but my irritation with an American Idol has-been takes precedence today.

Has anyone watched American Idol the past couple of seasons? If so, do you all remember this guy? C’mon, you have to remember sweet Matt with the big dimples. The positive-thinking-happy-go-lucky-aw-shucks-used-to-play-football-but-I’m really-a-teddy-bear guy. Isn’t he the greatest? NO. HE’S NOT THE GREATEST. HE IS A RUDE PARKING SPACE NAZI ASSHOLE FROM HELL.

Let me explain. Actually, let’s take a couple steps back. I have several parking garage/lot annoyances, as I’m sure most of you have as well. Some of these annoyances include people who drive r e a l l y s l o w l y around the lots, drivers who totally steal the space that you sooo were waiting for, and the most annoying, people who take thirty minutes to get into their car, check their mirrors, start the engine, fix their hair and finally put it into reverse while you are patiently waiting for the spot. Now, I am very understanding in certain situations. Handicapped individuals, moms with young children, elderly folks- I am as patient as Ghandi. I will even go as far to assume that some people aren’t aware you are waiting for their space (although, COME ON dumbasses, you know you see us). But today, Matt took the cake.

I was in a very crowded small parking lot with absolutely no open parking spaces. I drove around and finally spotted an empty space next to a black BMW that was backed into it’s space. As I drove up to the spot a man on his cell phone walked to the BMW, opened the door, sat in the driver’s seat and continued to chat away on his phone with the driver door wide open. Obviously, the open door was blocking me from parking in the empty space. So I sat there. And sat some more. Clearly, this man could see me waiting for the spot considering his car was backed into the space and HE WAS LOOKING DIRECTLY AT ME. So I inched my car up a little. No response- door still wide open. What in the hell? I started to wonder if this person was mentally inept. I tried again, still nothing! I stared at the dude long and hard- he stared back at me. He looked familiar. For God’s sake, it’s Matt from American Idol. Turns out Mr. Nice Guy is actually a big asshole. Finally, after three attempts at inching into the parking space, he shut the door, gave me a cocky look and sped off. OH, YOU’RE SO COOL AND FAMOUS.


I’m In a Great Mood – I Swear!

Isn’t it strange how your personal quirks can manifest in the most unlikely of places? I’m definitely a first-born, Type A personality. Most of it is internalized- I spend an exorbitant amount of energy trying not to project my unreasonably high expectations on people around me, but through the act of suppressing such issues some just pop up in the most seemingly benign situations…blah, blah, blah. Oh, fuck it. Some things just really bug the shit out of me.

Thus, I present to you Whoorl’s Ten Make-My-World-A-Better-Place Commandments.

1) Thou shalt not eat from the fast food bag until the final destination has been reached.
Yes, that means not even ONE french fry, by God. Have some self-control, people!*

2) Thou shalt not engage in storytelling while driving if it hinders your ability to get from Point A to Point B effectively.
It’s called multi-tasking. Women have been doing it for centuries.

3) Thou shalt stay to the right of the escalator or moving airport thingy so the people in a hurry can pass.

4) Thou shalt respect people’s schedules.
Please don’t leave for an appointment three minutes before you’re expected to be there, arrive late and blame it on traffic. We ALL deal with traffic- how do you think I got here? You know who you are.

5) Thou shalt not be a Sunday Driver.
Get out of the way, Gramps!

6) Thou shalt not invade my personal space standing in line at the grocery store.
You aren’t going to get through the line any faster just because you are breathing down my neck. BACK OFF.

7) Thou shalt only call me on the telephone with relatively important information.
I’m sorry peeps, but I hate the talking on the phone! How many more times do I have to say it?

8) Thou shalt not use your armest AND the armrest of the middle seat on an airplane.
To the gentleman on my right, I am well aware that you are a tall drink of water. To the gentleman on my left, I am well aware that you are 300 pounds. I am also well aware that I am petite. However, that doesn’t mean you can monopolize all of the armrests in the row. And while I have your attention, quit staring at me, my magazine and trying to buy me wine. Thanks a million.

9) Thou shalt not call to tell me I probably shouldn’t say ‘fuck’ on my website since you sent my link to my god-fearing Southern Baptist grandmother, causing me severe acute hypertension, only to tell me you are joking.

10) This is my rotational commandment spot for future annoyances.

* actually, I’m far more concerned with you stealing my fries.