Blinkers clicking furiously; tires screeching to a halt; horns honking nonstop. The yelling, the arguing; I can hear it already and I’m not even on campus yet.
Welcome to the modern day battlefield: the Monmouth University parking lot.
It’s like the scene in “Mean Girls” when Cady Heron imagines the cafeteria turning into a jungle in Africa, except instead of people running wild, it’s the machines that are animals, weighing 10 tons each and being driven by barbarians on the hunt for a good spot.
It’s survival of the fittest out here. The early risers, being better prepared, are guaranteed better spots, but still, there is always struggle. Not to mention, they’ve now eliminated more space for parking with the construction that is going on. As if the competition wasn’t high enough. It’s like cutting down the rainforest! Cutting into our natural resources, necessities.
And before the hunt even begins, a smooth drive to campus can’t even be promised. Our commutes consist of traffic, detours and lines at the local coffee shop, hoping there is enough time to grab a breakfast sandwich to go with that double espresso to get you through the day.
I’ve learned from past experience that I would end up in the overflow parking lot, sprinting to class if I arrive to campus with only 10 minutes to spare. So, I’ve just pulled onto campus with 20 minutes until class starts. The hunt is on.
I start circling, row after row, and not a spot is in sight. Really?! I got here early thinking that there would be spots galore. But of course not, the rush of students leaving the class that ends before mine hasn’t been let out yet. So I still circle, creeping slowly up and down each aisle. I feel like a lion trying to steal a cheetah’s kill.
Fifteen minutes until class starts. I’m still ahead on time, but still no luck. Two rows away from me, the row closest to Bey Hall, a car pulls out and drives away. A driver who just pulled onto campus pulls into the spot without a problem. He is smiling from ear to ear. What a relief he found such a great spot so effortlessly, right? So, I continue to circle. Left or right? Should I just settle and take a spot in the last row? No way, I did not wake up half an hour earlier than normal just to settle for a mediocre spot.
I watch the time on my car tick closer and closer to the time class starts. I now have 10 minutes to find a good spot. I scream profanities to myself as I see more cars pull in and out of spots from across the lot. Everyone is just at the right place at the right time, except for me.
I pull into the second row now and a car is pulling out. Yes, I can settle for this, I’d consider this winning! But nope, I failed to see the car on the other side with its blinker already on. I’m not one for confrontation such as that so I’ll let this one go.
“Agghhhhhhhh” I scream at myself as I slam my hands on my steering wheel and keep driving. Parallel to us in another row I hear honking. A girl furiously screams, “That’s my spot!” She won’t let off her horn. “Get over it,” retorts the boy, as he gives her the finger and whips his Audi into the spot.
I refuse to settle for giving my car to the “valet,” and worse, the dreaded overflow parking lot. There aren’t even painted lines to show where the spots are in that far away place. To park somewhere that might be a spot and then walk across the entire parking lot that feels bigger than the Sahara Desert? No, I don’t think so.
It has now begun to rain, how great, I didn’t know rain was in the forecast today. The last thing on my mind was to check the weather, since I was so focused on arriving to school early for once.
I’m driving up the second row again, no on-coming traffic, and it looks like there is a spot ahead. Could it be? I speed up in anticipation; smiling so hard I must look like the Cheshire Cat. Smart Car. It was a Smart Car, unbelievable!
As I turn into the third row a car starts to pull out. Ah, finally! I found a spot and it’s not that far. I can settle for the third row. I park and brace myself to run through the rain to safety. I still have more than five minutes until class, perfect.
I get into the building and there is no line for coffee. Today looks like it might be a great day despite the 10 minute hunt and unexpected rain. I grab a bagel and coffee and head upstairs, still ahead of time.
I’m up the stairs, still smiling, proud of myself for getting a good spot, getting breakfast and coffee and even having minutes to spare. Then I see it; a note on the door. No it couldn’t be, could it? I get close enough to read, “10 am class cancelled.”
PHOTO TAKEN from inautonews.com
