The following is an actual conversation I had in the car this morning with myself, two people in the parking lot, and the driver of another car...none of which could hear me.
"OK... Where to park... Where to park... Anything? Anything? Buehler? Come on, there's got to be something...oh, wait. Dammit! It's 10:10 and classes got out. There isn't going to be anything anywhere. Come On... Come on... Somebody leave class and go home. Leeeaaaavvve! Please...
Anything up this aisle? Here after the... DAMMIT. Dumb truck hiding the little car. OK. Anything? Anything? Come On! I don't want to have to go to the pay lot. Pleeeeaassssse let there be something...
*Sigh* Alright, one more swipe and then I'll go. Anything? No. Nope. Damn. No. Maybe I'll sit here in the car for a .... wait. WAIT! Oh please! Are you leaving? Tell me you are leaving! Go for the keys. Go. For. The. Keys. That's right. Get your keys. Are you going to do it? Are you... Yes? You're slowing down? This could be it. Slowing.. slowing... SCORE! Parking spot. Signal on... this one is MINE.
Oh wait. Oh no. OH NO YOU DON'T. This spot is MINE sucker. My signal is on, and I've been in this lot for five minutes. Not yours. MINE. OK buddy, pull out in my favor. Don't go the ... no... NO, DON'T PULL OUT IN HIS FAVOR. DAMMIT! Mine! This is mine! You better not take my spot you stupid Hummer or I'll.... oh. Alright then. Good. It's mine. See? Mine. Not yours, mine. I was here first. Better luck next time, sucker.
Thank God. I hate you, pay lot.
And your little dog, too.
Is it possible, although separated by a continent, that we were actually birthed from the same womb? Could you pleeease check with GramTuna and see if you had a twin somehow inadvertently born in Vancouver in March of 1960??
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