We are in the car, heading to lunch in downtown Portland.
We can see the restaurant . . . well, we can’t see it constantly, because we keep driving the fuck past it. There it is again. There it is again. There it is again.
Oh my fucking god.
We need a parking space.
Mark is driving. Duh. Because if I was driving? We would so already be fucking parked.
And there are invisible people in the car. Duh.
The in-law visit is going well, by the way.
Mark is talking as he drives. LIKE A CRAZY PERSON.
“Is that a parking space?”
“No.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“No.”
“Is he leaving?”
“No.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“No . . . it’s a loading zone.”
“Do you see a parking space?”
“No. Go into the lot.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“No. Why did you just drive past the lot?”
“That’s only monthly parking. Is that a parking space?”
“No. And the lot said Park Here Now. Why would it say that if you couldn’t park there now?”
“They mean you can park here now for a month. Is that a parking space?”
“No, that’s a loading zone. And that’s the dumbest thing I have ever heard . . . Park here now for a month. Like they won’t give our car back after lunch.”
And we pass the restaurant again.
“Is this a one way street?”
“Yes.”
“Is this a one way street?”
“Yes.”
“Well, where can I turn then?”
“Which way do you want to go? They are one-way streets in opposite directions.”
“You didn’t tell me that. Is that a parking space?”
“Oh my god, no it is not. Where are you going to park?”
“I have not been looking long. I want to find a close space so that we do not have to walk far. Is that a parking space?”
“No.”
“Let me wait a minute and see if he’s leaving.”
“Babe! You are in the middle of the intersection! You cannot stop here! YOU CANNOT STOP HERE!”
“OK, but is he leaving?”
“No, and we are going to die.”
“We are not going to die. Ok, so if he is getting in his car, we could park there. But if he is not leaving, then there is still no parking here. Keep your eyes open.”
“My eyes? They are open, babe.”
“OK, does he look like he is leaving?”
“No. Here’s the lot again. Park in the lot.”
“I’m checking on this side of the road for a parking space, and that lot is for monthly parking. It says so right there.”
“That’s for the other entrance. This entrance right here? The one that says Park Here Now? You could so park there now.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“Why do you keep asking me that? There are no parking spaces!”
“Do you think I can fit there?”
“No, that’s like half the size of our car.’
“So you don’t think I could fit there?”
“No. Why are you driving past the lot again?”
“I don’t think you can park in there.”
“Oh my god. Let’s just go get a Happy Meal.”
“Why are you so impatient? I am just trying to find us a parking space.”
And we pass the restaurant again.
“Maybe if we drive this way, we will find something.”
“Whatever.”
“Is this a one-way street?”
“Yes.”
“I’m trying to orient myself. If we got out of the car here, where would the restaurant be?”
“Back there, where we left it.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“No.”
“Is she leaving?”
“No.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“Where?”
“Right over there.”
“ACK!!! Babe! Red light! STOP!”
“Ok, but right there. Is that a parking space?”
“No.”
“OK, I am going to drive really slowly, and you tell me if you see any spaces.”
“THERE ARE NO SPACES. Go around the block and park in the lot.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“Why do you keep saying that? There are no parking spaces.”
“All of these people parked. There are parking spaces. We just have to find one.”
“Oh my god.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“Yes, but it’s in a 20 minute zone.”
“That’s not enough time, is it?”
“Duh. No.”
“All these people walking around, somebody must be done doing what they need to do. Somebody must be about to leave. And then we will park there.”
“You are driving me crazy.”
“There! What’s that guy doing?”
“Walking across the street all happy because he parked his car in the lot.”
“Maybe he’s leaving! Where’s his car?”
“I told you . . . in the lot. Look how happy he looks!”
“Fine, I will pull into the lot. Right here.”
“No, not right here! This is the permitted monthly parking section. On the other side of the lot, you can park for a few hours.”
“No, you need a monthly permit on that side too. That’s how downtown parking works – They make you pay by the month.”
“Drive around to the other side.”
“Is that a parking space?”
“I am going to kill you.”
“Well, is it? Is that a parking space?”
“NO. It’s the same loading zone we have passed like 5 times. It is not a parking space.”
“Fine. I will drive around the block again.”
“Yay!”
“Look, it’s the same lot with the same rules and it says . . .”
“It says Park Here Now. Pull into the lot.”
“I am not sure about this.”
Mark lowers his window to speak to the attendant, “We are only going to be here like two hours. Is that OK?”
“Pull around to the left, sir. Leave your keys with the kiosk attendant.”
Mark is all happy, “We can park in here! This is pretty close to the restaurant!”
OH MY GOD.
As we walk the ½ block from the parking structure to the restaurant, Marks says, “I have been coming down to Portland a lot, and I am getting pretty good at figuring out where to park. I think I parked right near here the last time I was down here. You just have to be patient and know where to look.”
He gestures to the restaurant ahead of us, “Did I do a good job or what? Look at how close we parked!”
I raise my hand, “Yes, babe. High fives on your excellent parking skills!”
As Mark happily high-fives me? There is invisible giggling.
I love my in-laws.
This is why I just park on the sidewalk.
‘Cause fuck ‘em.
That’s right. I cursed in a comment.
I’m so awesome.
I am not even brave enough to park on the sidewalk.
But I do park the fucking car. And if there is no simple way to park the car?
I am abandoning those fucking plans and moving on to Plan B.
Happy Meals? Not so bad.
I will circle the block once, maybe twice, but then I’m done. My life? I’d rather spend it doing something other than driving in an endless Mobius strip trying to find a fucking spot.
Know what a better use of your time is? Parking a few blocks away and then walking to your destination.
But of course you knew this already, because you are awesome like that.
You and I? We would get along just fine in a car.
Parking a few blocks away is an AWESOME idea. Unless you have invisible people who you do not want to annoy by making them walk.
Why did we not just drop them off in front of the restaurant? NO FUCKING CLUE.
Did I mention that I was sitting in the back seat? No one listens to me when I am sitting in the back seat. Which is a shame, as I have a lot of useful information to impart.
PARK HERE NOW.
Sigh.
It helps when you’re sharing a car to have mutually compatible viewpoints on not wasting your life driving around in a car.
Also, we would get along smashingly because I would always let you have the last word.
Eventually.
I am heading out in a moment to see fish hatcheries and waterfalls.
YAY! Driving! Followed by parking!
So you will get to have the last word here for a while.
But the thing about the last word? You only get to have it for a while.
So take care of the last word for me, as I will be back and I will require its return.
I want to see waterfalls! Instead, my plan for the day is strangling insurance company representatives for accidentally canceling my home owner’s insurance.
What’s funny about this is that in my blog post about this very thing today? There was mention of driving a car through the insurance office and parking it on the rep’s head.
It’s a day for parking stories!
The waterfalls were lovely. The fish hatchery was lovely. The dam was lovely.
I hate riding in the back of the goddamn car for 6 hours.
But other than that? A day of loveliness.
Good deal there. I think you deserve yourself a nice little day of loveliness, even with the back seat thing going on.
We bought penny candy and got stinking drunk. I find Sophie easier to manage some days when she’s totally blotto. Plus she likes to wear lampshades on her head, so it’s all good.
I have had no alcohol today, and I am in dire need.
I am not finding these people at all amusing at the moment.
Guess what? I met a snappy little sassy pug named Sophie today! She was way cute, and we asked if we could pet her, and the owner said sure.
And then Sophie the pug? Tried to rip our throats out.
I thought of you.
How did you keep your head from exploding? I think Mark is related to my fiance Razor. Razor argues with the GPS, which, of course, is so extremely helpful.
Mark also talks to (and argues with) the GPS!
And guess what? The GPS is always fucking right.
Just like me.
lmao…oh god…if that was me, i totally would have just gotten out of the car and let him fend for himself
Yes, but there were the invisible people to consider.
If they hadn’t been in the car? This conversation would have gone slightly differently.
Were there multiple illegal U-turns? Cause when this conversation happens in our car it includes multiple illegal u-turns.
No, although I left out the stunningly exciting part of the conversation where Mark sadly rejected making such an illegal U-turn and then explained in great and excruciating detail the limits of our particular car’s turning radius.
Seriously? He is a loon.
And there was no bleeding during this exchange.
You must have a lot of respect for the invisible people.
A lot.
Yup.
PS – I adore a tag called “self-congratulatory high-fives for non-accomplishments.”
Thank you!
That made me giggle as well.
Mark hasn’t noticed that yet.
AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I know, right?
How excellent am I that I did not scream at the top of my lungs, grab the wheel, and then drive us into a building?
Mark’s parents have a calming effect on me.
Plus, they would not appreciate being crashed into a building.
True story- when I travel with the dh I have to get a script for xanax. He subscribes to the notion – Its my road and youre just lucky I let you use it.
As annoying as Mark can be when he is the driver?
He is a worse passenger. Way worse.
True story.
That is why I no longer drive with anyone… I used to get this in parking lots and downtown. I’m impressed there was no blood shed in the car! Congrats on that.
M
There was no way to injure Mark without injuring the rest of us.
And in-law blood? That shit stains.
My grandmother could have SO solved this for you. Send a pack of kids out with cell phones or walkie talkies. Let them find a space in the acceptable distance radius and then stand there – holding it for you. Because, don’t you know, that’s what kids are for. And their reward? Happy Meals. :evil giggling:
I thought of you and your grandmother!
But sadly? We had no children with us. They were at school.
Today is their first day of summer vacation . . . I am going to put their asses to work if this situation arises again.
I almost spit out my drink on that one.
My grandmother would be so pleased!
This one of insistence where I would have had to bite my tongue to keep from giving him the verbal lashing he deserved. About half way though that…I would have reached up front and smacked him…In-laws or no! Funny thing, My mother in law would have helped me LOL.
Sigh.
I wish you had been in the car.
There has not been enough verbal lashing since the in-laws arrived.
Not nearly enough.
I yelled at my husband the other day over Mexican food. Really Mexican food! My head was saying “shut up, you sound crazy!” but my mouth was not listening to my head! They were at war! Lots of cussing (from me), pouting (on his part) and confused looks (from my 2 year old) then apologies (me again!) were had at my house last Friday. Funny thing, I didn’t even want enchiladas until he brought up that I couldn’t have them. I’m not a nice pregnant woman, The verbal lashing might have been deadly LOL…
I was not a nice pregnant woman either.
Mark gets all shivery when he remembers it.
He is lucky to have survived.
This would be funny, but sadly Mark sounds like me and you sound like my husband, which is why he drives anytime we go out.
Again . . . as annoying as Mark is as the driver?
Way way worse as the passenger.
So much worse.
Gah! I think I would have gotten out of the car and let my husband work out the parking on his own. Meanwhile, I would be in the restaurant, sipping coffee and perusing the menu until he pulled his head out of his ass.
Again with the presence of the invisible people. Without them?
I would have leapt from the car the second time around the block.
Mark can get his head waaaaaay up his ass sometimes.
That and his monkey hands? He is all circus freaky.
That’s awesome. Your patience is amazing. I would have killed him after 5 times around the block. Especially if I was hungry. Bless you!
I was hungry. And crabby. And impatient.
I have lots of practice with the girls . . . I try to stay reasonably cheerful on the outside.
Otherwise no one wants to take me anywhere.
Wait. That would not be so bad.
Hmmmmm . . .
How did you keep from smacking him? Good job on keeping your cool.
I am not quite my normal smackish person when there are invisible people around.
And Mark knows that.
Sigh.
Is that a parking space?
NO!
say hello to herman the sturgeon for me!
The fish hatchery? It was way cool!
Most of the time in busy areas, I’ll drop the wife and kids off and then I’ll go park in another county and hoof it back to them. Then at some point, Deb will send me to go move the car closer so that they won’t have far to walk on the way out. That’s how we roll.
I made my first batch of ice cream last night- success! Virtually-guiltless mint chocolate chip- I substituted half-half for heavy cream and also substituted reduced fat milk (2%) for whole milk. It was actually good, although not as “creamy” but missing at least 1/2 the fat calories. Has Mark tried, if so throw down some suggestions my way.
I considered chocolate-boysenberry for my next batch, but when I brought a bowl of berries off the vine to Deb this morning, she informed me, yet again, that she doesn’t like berries. Huh? We have strawberries, blueberries, boysenberries and raspberries. Okay then… at least the kids like them.
Mark NEVER drops us off.
He will occasionally passively-aggressively offer to drop us off, but if I were to take him up on that offer?
There would be all kinds of hell to pay.
Mark made ice cream with the girls a couple of times, and we found it to be more hassle than it was worth. They sell it in cartons at the store, you know. And that store-bought kind? Is not all runny and fucked up with substitute ingredients.
Also . . . chocolate boysenberry? Bleagh.
But I still love you.