We’ve all been there: late to school, freaking out about how embarrassing it’s going to be when you walk in; how your teacher and their entire class of students turn to look at you in-sync because the door is loud, but it feels like they all discussed how exactly to amplify your embarrassment prior to your arrival.
You dart into the parking lot locked in on finding a spot, any spot, because of course all the shaded ones are already taken. As you approach, there’s someone double parked in your lane, and you can’t go around them because a hefty line of cars are passing by on the other side. This person is set on parking right there, failing to acknowledge the ten cars behind them.
Okay, no biggie, you calmly say, all the while you’re trying to stoke the fury burning inside you. You finally get a chance to pull around the wretched double-parker, noticing they’re in the car, on their phone, blatantly avoiding the mostly empty pickup zone.
You try to get into the next section of the lot. You’re thinking you’ve gotten through the worst of it, only to see someone in a giant truck driving through it in the wrong direction — while speeding. You wait for them to leave the lot and pass you so you can enter in the proper direction, but they don’t budge. They start angrily waving you on, refusing to see they’ve gone the wrong direction and blocked the entire row of spots.
Whatever, I’ll just keep going, then.
You’re thinking this very angrily now. Maybe even cursing under your breath. You enter another section and find your spot. While pulling out to adjust your egregious parking job, a sedan speeds past you, and you just barely halted yourself from ramming into the side of their car. As you calm down and pull back into the spot, you heave a deep sigh, relishing in the fact that your journey is finally complete; then you notice the SUV double-parked behind you.
Shit.