Embarrassing Situation One: Free Parking Ticket From a Stranger

Today, somebody I did not know paid for my daily parking ticket at my university. That stranger, either from a New Zealand or partial African-American descent, well spoken, looked a little like Alicia Keys, though I could not make further accurate comparisons due to the large nature of her sunglasses.

Driving down the street towards my university, the opposite lane usually contains drivers exiting – people entering tend to drive slow and maintain direct eye contact with those on the opposite lane, looking for a rolled-down driver’s window, with a tiresome hand sticking out of it, waving a daily parking ticket. So, trying my luck today, despite the fact that I had four dollars beside me in the console waiting for the entrance of the ticket machine, I drove towards the university slower, seeking out a waving hand of glory.

No luck. Until, of course, just as I was about to turn into the gravel car park. I see a rarity, something all those who drive into the university car park seek: a lady, waving a daily ticket in my direction. It took me a little while to process that today my luck was in line, thus I braked a little further from her. I did not even take into account stopping the car closer, seeing as my arms are short. So I stopped, the traffic stopped behind both me and her, patiently waiting as I claimed victory over the free ticket. “Here, darl, there’s no point in you having to buy a ticket! Enjoy your day darl!” She beamed. But no, it did not quite happen that easily, that fast, remember, my arms are short.

So I tried reaching out my hand. I tried a second time. She stretched out further. The distance between us, though, remained wide, wide enough to fit two parking ticket machine dispensers and a person collecting a ticket. “Wait,” I told her, “I’ll get out, I’ll just put my car in park.” I do not know why it is that I had to explain my actions to her, but I did. I think it was because I could not believe that it was happening, and that people were still patiently waiting behind me and her. So, seeing as I was driving a different car with a different hand-brake location for the past week and seeing as I had become heavily accustomed to the location of that particular hand-brake, it took me a while to realize that in this car, the hand-brake was sitting right inside my hand, while I was moving my foot looking for that other non-existent hand-brake.

After finally coming to realization that, like when I lose my phone and desperately search the world for it, the hand-brake was inside my hand the entire time, I pulled it up and placed the gear on ‘P’, and quickly jumped out of the car. “Thank you so much!” I crooned, to which she then replied, “you’re welcome! Enjoy your day, darl!” But the story does not end there.

The story ends with utter humility. After having forgotten the location of my hand-brake, I thought that, in the fleeting moment of acquiring something for free, nothing else of an embarrassing manner would occur – I was wrong. Wronged by the car seat, in fact. When I drive, I also have to accommodate my short legs, so my seat, naturally, was pushed all the way forward. I did not notice, in the commotion that surpassed when I had to leap out of the car in fear of impatient onlookers, that I had left it that way, and to appear like a naturally gifted driver, I attempted entering the car again swiftly. My attempt was blocked, though, not entirely by the fact that the car seat was pushed right out to the steering wheel, but also by the fact that I had not positioned my knees properly for a polished re-entrance. 

So I sat there, most of my body hanging out of the car, shifting in multiple directions as I tried to squeeze my legs past the steering wheel. Minutes of struggle proved the outcome otherwise. So, I decided that there was nothing else to do but to get out of the car again, making sure all onlookers knew exactly what I looked like so that if they saw me again they would reminisce on this embarrassing moment. After getting back out, I tried again to enter. I almost got in, and with a few more squeezes I had to get out yet again. This time, this ensured that everybody knew what I looked like. There is no form of escapism.

I was finally in the car, squeezing a final time and pulling the chair all the way back because squeezing did not work, and I drove off immediately after taking the hand-brake off and propelling the gear into ‘D’. I did not even stop to push my seat forward. I sunk into the seat so that my legs would reach, and drifted into the gravel car park, drifted into a parking bay next to a ticket machine, and turned the car off. I sat there laughing to myself, at myself. I was laughing so loud, not realizing that my window was down and that there were other forms of human beings standing in the car park now staring at a strange laughing stranger.

Through my humility, I gained a joyous feeling from the choice of a good deed made by that young adult. I am glad that I am not the only person out there who believes in sharing parking tickets, seeing as it is indeed ridiculously costly to purchase one for a couple of hours of class. The car park is not too protected, either, so basically I am paying to leave my car on once particularly placed and now shifted pieces of gravel next to other cars owned by other students, in hopes that prospecting thieves do not turn up in the proximity of the university institution to steal my car that has a free daily parking ticket.