So you know where I've gone
I have an above-average need to worry so I've been hanging out in the parking garage attached to a nearby hospital, Swedish Covenant. It is easier to worry about all the uninviting looks people give me than to worry about where my life is going, and why I've been up all night again watching The Andy Griffith Show. But before you jump to conclusions (on your jump to conclusions mat), I only hang out in this parking garage during early daylight hours, and I try to keep moving. A person who walks through a parking garage is less suspicious than one who loiters, and walking is exercise, and exercise is something normal people do. But sometimes I wonder what percentage of parking garage crimes are committed by innocents who entered the garage just to enjoy the desolate ambiance, but then are driven to hack someone to pieces by circumstances out of their control. This is why I don't carry anything that could be used to hack someone to pieces, not even my Motorola RAZR.
I never hear about good things that happen in a parking garage. I think these events probably go underreported in the mainstream media. I should get my hands on a copy of Parking Today, the parking industry's trade publication, because I bet it's filled with ads depicting positive encounters in parking garages. I could make color copies of those ads and put them under people's windshield wipers to inform them. That would anger some parking authority figure, who would tell me I'm not welcome in his garage. Then I would hug him and tell him that I love him, thus dealing the death blow to parking garages' negative image. If only I had the guts to both loiter and litter.
I like the roof (Level 5) of the parking garage best. It's clear when it's cold, and I can see the toy-sized Chicago skyline. I only admire it for a few minutes at a time because there are always two or three vans up on the roof, and I envision myself dragged into one,"disappeared" for witnessing a politically damaging love affair or a politically innocuous murder. If a van's a-rockin' or a-screamin', "Help me!", I'm a-leavin' in a calm, cool manner. Like I didn't see nothin'. Any hospital patient who witnessed my disappearance would also be easy prey for my power-addicted abductor. Such is the nature of my high-risk, low-reward lifestyle.
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I never hear about good things that happen in a parking garage. I think these events probably go underreported in the mainstream media. I should get my hands on a copy of Parking Today, the parking industry's trade publication, because I bet it's filled with ads depicting positive encounters in parking garages. I could make color copies of those ads and put them under people's windshield wipers to inform them. That would anger some parking authority figure, who would tell me I'm not welcome in his garage. Then I would hug him and tell him that I love him, thus dealing the death blow to parking garages' negative image. If only I had the guts to both loiter and litter.
I like the roof (Level 5) of the parking garage best. It's clear when it's cold, and I can see the toy-sized Chicago skyline. I only admire it for a few minutes at a time because there are always two or three vans up on the roof, and I envision myself dragged into one,"disappeared" for witnessing a politically damaging love affair or a politically innocuous murder. If a van's a-rockin' or a-screamin', "Help me!", I'm a-leavin' in a calm, cool manner. Like I didn't see nothin'. Any hospital patient who witnessed my disappearance would also be easy prey for my power-addicted abductor. Such is the nature of my high-risk, low-reward lifestyle.
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Labels: anxiety
posted by JMH | 11:11 PM
1 Comments:
Wow. This is great. I've always avoided parking garages, but I may have to make a couple of detours on my way home today. That Children's Memorial garage looks like a good one. Structurally at least. It's probably a really depressing place, what with all the sick kids. I'm sure the doctors park there, too, but I'm picturing rows and rows of handicapped-accessible minivans.
Also, terrific sentence.
If a van's a-rockin' or a-screamin', "Help me!", I'm a-leavin' in a calm, cool manner. Like I didn't see nothin'.
I don't think it would work on a T-shirt, but maybe a coffee mug or eco-friendly reusable shopping tote.
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