Parking Problems #2
Yesterday, I went to town again.
I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself. It never ends well. I also don’t know why town hasn’t become obsolete yet. I firmly believe I should be able to complete any desired task from the safety of my lounge room, but, sadly, there remain some tasks which require one to venture outside.
I was pleasantly surprised to find a car spot on Level 5 of Centreplace Carpark, right next to the stairwell, though I couldn’t understand why there were so many car spots available. The reason soon became clear as I ventured into the main shopping complex. I’d forgotten it was Sunday.
I had expected the buzzing metropolis that usually disgusts me so much in Hobart. Instead I found a ghost town inhabited only by clusters of deviant youths and the occasional wandering crazy. (I imagine the youths assumed that I was part of the latter group)
Of course, the bank, my main reason for coming to town, was closed.
I also went to the phone shop to ask why my calls keep dropping out. They said they didn’t know.
So I returned to the carpark.
Centreplace is one of those carparks where you have to validate your ticket within the shopping centre, before you return to your car. You then have some unspecified amount of time to get to your car and drive to the exit, where the presentation of your ticket enables you to finally leave.
Unfortunately, after I had validated my ticked, returned to my car, and found my keys, I realised that at some point during this process I had become tangled in my earphone cord. I don’t know how, so don’t ask me to explain.
After about ten minutes of struggling to escape, I assume my ticket validation would have expired. I will never know, however, since during the struggle I managed to throw my ticket up in the air, where it was carried off by a perfectly timed gust of wind.
The thing is, this isn’t the sort of story that I even half expected the carpark ticket man to believe. I don’t expect you to believe it. Yet, I tried to tell my story both as truthfully and as believably as I could.
In the end, he took my name and license number. I don’t know what that means, but I guess I’ll have to find a new place to park.