What a day! I haven't felt that alive in some time. Sundays are normally dull days because lot 3 only gets a few cars - 10 at most. Yesterday was no different. It was hot, boring and slow. I sat most of the time because I was still feeling sick from my stomach. Around seven o'clock, I saw something across the parking lot. It was moving at a rapid speed. As it got closer, I noticed it was an empty cardboard box tumbling in the wind. What a way to set the mood. It was like one of those old Western movie cliches that we recognize automatically as barren and vacant. The box as tumble weed was the last thing to seal the deal that the day would be long.
Twenty minutes later, I saw a tan minivan pull into the lot, having jumped over the median. There was a quick inner battle with myself, wondering if I should disregard Bossman's rules. At orientation, he said anyone who gets in passed us without paying should be let in, "It's not worth the $2 if you get injured."
I stepped forward, said fuck it and walked down the hot asphalt, picking up speed toward the van. Within shouting distance, I called out, "Excuse me! You have to pay for parking!"
The man in the yellow polo shirt, an idiot, looked up and asked, "Even here?"
"Even here..." ...asshole.
Lot 3 has three entrances, two of which are blocked by our horses. These people know that they have to pay if they come through me, so they go through an ROTC entrance which is blocked off from lot 3 by a sidewalk. Because the pavement is low enough to drive over without damage, most people take it. Because Bossman told us these people aren't worth it, I've been passive about chasing them. Of course, yesterday was a dull day.
After collecting and running back to my post, I felt happier, more alive - like a true Parking Lot Nazi! And it was the many reasons why I wanted the job again - the exercise!
Twenty minutes later, I saw a tan minivan pull into the lot, having jumped over the median. There was a quick inner battle with myself, wondering if I should disregard Bossman's rules. At orientation, he said anyone who gets in passed us without paying should be let in, "It's not worth the $2 if you get injured."
I stepped forward, said fuck it and walked down the hot asphalt, picking up speed toward the van. Within shouting distance, I called out, "Excuse me! You have to pay for parking!"
The man in the yellow polo shirt, an idiot, looked up and asked, "Even here?"
"Even here..." ...asshole.
Lot 3 has three entrances, two of which are blocked by our horses. These people know that they have to pay if they come through me, so they go through an ROTC entrance which is blocked off from lot 3 by a sidewalk. Because the pavement is low enough to drive over without damage, most people take it. Because Bossman told us these people aren't worth it, I've been passive about chasing them. Of course, yesterday was a dull day.
After collecting and running back to my post, I felt happier, more alive - like a true Parking Lot Nazi! And it was the many reasons why I wanted the job again - the exercise!
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