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Lines? What Lines?
Thursday, January 22, 2009 at 07:44PM 
Last week I was in downtown Columbia for the purpose of reporting a deposition in an office building where I've spent a great deal of time over the last three months. So much so in fact, I know the garage attendant -- I think of him as "Slow Eddie" -- by name. He apparently knows me by make, model, and vanity plate.
Eddie's not slow mentally (quite the opposite; in fact he is a charming gentleman). It's just that, nearly every time I approach the little booth where I'm obliged to hand over my stamp-validated ticket, he's mysteriously in absentia. Once, early on, I sounded my horn (just a wee tap) after I'd cooled my heels for, oh, 44 seconds.
I was required to sit for what seemed like hours at the kitchen Formica.
Patience is a virtue but I don't have that one. I wanted to go home.
Slow Eddie had emerged from a small (presumably heated/cooled and for all I know, cable-equipped) office on the other side of the exit lane and shuffled into the booth to receive my ticket. But before pressing the button to lift the gate he pointed out a little bell I could have utilized, in lieu of my horn, to get his attention. He was real nice about it.
"Sorry, Eddie!" I said with a dazzling smile ... and I meant it. I thought all was forgiven, but ...
Fast forward to last week. The depo had dragged on for several hours and I was suffering from my second cold this flu-and-cold season. Appropriately, it was also very cold outside. I dragged my equipment case to my car, which was parked in the same space I've used practically every one of the fifteen-odd times I've been there. This garage is never packed out; not even close.
I was buckling my seatbelt when I noticed a special flyer beneath my windshield wiper on the driver's side. Expecting pizza coupons or an invitation to lunch with Governor and Mrs. Sanford, I got out and retrieved it. This is what it was:
Once I realized (to my great relief) that I hadn't incurred a fine for my terrible parking, I had to laugh. Mr. Wright was actually wrong; I had parked straight (or nearly straight) between the lines. Only problem was, the lines were slanted. Those lines were in the wrong place, making me look bad.
It's not unprecedented. When I was but a first grader, I remember that I got in trouble for not coloring within the lines on some assignment or other. The teacher was so concerned, she sent a note home to my mother. I was required to sit for what seemed like hours at the kitchen Formica, coloring in a coloring book until I could keep as little crayon as possible from bleeding outside those blasted lines.
Talk about squelching creativity! I remember thinking, even then: WHY do the lines have to be THERE? Why can't they be wherever my beautiful purple crayon goes?
Because if they were, the picture would look incredibly ridiculous when I was finished coloring. See, I am no stripe of an artist; I can barely take a decent photograph.
Some say life mirrors art ... or is it vice versa? I say life is an art. And in life as in art, with few exceptions, boundaries are good.
Slow Eddie Sez: Toe The Line Or Get Towed From The Lines.
Me, reluctantly, in reply: Oh, o-KAY. *sigh*
Reader Comments (12)
That is so funny! And poor you, being accused unjustly. :(
Ha! Ha! Jesus appears to us in a lot of different forms during the day, doesn't he?
I love your license (Not2Be), that's great! My artist uncle taught me when I was small to color in a small circular motion and that made it so much easier to stay in the lines. I don't think I would have particularly cared, but my sis won a coloring contest and the prize was a pair of shoes, and I was so impressed I had to try to improve my erratic coloring as well. Be sure to stay on Eddie's good side!
You sure you weren't just trying to slash park your Mercedes to avoid door dings?
This was so outrageous as to be hilarious! I never heard of such a violation! Stupers (short, as you know, for unbelievably stupid persons) at work yet again with far too much time on their hands!
@ Mari ... I know! It hurts ...
@ Cheryl ... He certainly does! He's everywhere, if you believe.
@ Tracie ... I'd color pretty for a pair of shoes too! You are speaking my language, and how. You like my plates? LOL! It's because I have only one "B" in my last name, but I am ALWAYS given two. Also, I love Shakespeare's writings (mainly his sonnets but a few of the plays) ... so I figure everyone driving behind me is saying: "To be or not to be; that is the question." LOLOLOL
@ Keli ... thank you! I thought it was an incredibly ridiulous set of "violations" to put on such an "official" flyer, LOL! And no, I wasn't trying to slash park (that's such a funny term), but I guess it looked like it to Slow Eddie! I'm so misunderstood ...
Sure, there's all this talk about thinking outside of the box, but when someone does, that's what happens. :)
@ Erin ... exactly! You think (or park) one hair outside that little imaginary box, and you get taken to task! Sheesh.
Slow Eddie probably reads your blog ;) "Dadgumit, anuddah slash parker h'yar!"
@ SF ... *giggle* yes! I can hear him now! Imagine having nothing better to do ...
I have to say, what a ridiculous rule -- even if the lines WERE straight! My gosh, if I could give a special ticket to everyone who didn't "park between the lines." I know I'm guilty of it as well, but then, I never liked staying in the lines.
@ JD ... exactly! Who comes up with these dumb rules anyway?
I always wanted to read Shakespeare "properly" but I finally gave up and got one of those books that write the plays in the kind of English we speak now, and enjoyed it thoroughly, I might add! Hey, if it's good enough for the Bible, after all, it's certainly good enough for the Bard. (I remember when I was given The Living Bible in 6th grade and I DEVOURED it!)