I had an appointment this morning in a building I could see from my office if there weren’t a billboard in the way.
I gave myself twenty minutes to get there anyway, because contrary to popular opinion, I do try to be on time, and you need time to park and get in and go to the bathroom and what have you.
There were no spots left, but I saw a car with its taillights on, so I pulled behind it and turned on my blinkers.
It was 10:45, so I still had 15 minutes to get parked and get upstairs. It was all good.
I knew the lady was in the car, because I could see the flash of a hand waving periodically.
Five minutes passed, then seven. Cars began queuing up behind me. There was nowhere for me to go. I gently honked my horn. Nothing. She carried on her conversation.
Finally I got out of my car and went and tapped on her window, “Are you finished with your business here?” I asked.
She was quite pleasant, actually. “Yes! Is there really nowhere else to park?”
“Well, no,” I said, “and we’ve all been sitting here ten minutes. There’s a bit of a jam going on.”
She rolled up her window and continued her conversation (naturally) as the other cars started honking their horns, and eventually left.
I made it to my appointment at exactly 11:00 on the dot. Not what I’d hoped for, but not late, either.
But man, I’ve had my eye on some 1978 Better Homes & Gardens that I’ve been wanting to swipe.