PARK AND RIDE
I stood in the dark, at the mall, in the empty “Park and Ride” parking lot.
There I was, like a car, occupying a parking space with my own two feet.
It was 9:30 p.m. The commuters who had slunk off and out of commuter vans and shuttle buses were long gone. The mall, usually bright and teeming, was closed down.
There was no where else to stand, nowhere to go: no benches, no planters, no curbs – just parking spaces and road.
Every two minutes for two hours I texted Linda to remind her to come get me.
“It’s just like that bitch to leave me stranded,” I thought as a car pulled up and the driver motioned for me to move. He wanted my spot. He was a car and I was just a person and he wanted my spot.
Out of all the spots, he had to have mine.
He lowered his window when I approached. He managed to ask, “Are you crazy?” as I reached in and pulled him out and onto the pavement.
Since it is all I have left, years later I still relish the look in his eyes as I gave him my answer.