On my way to pick up lunch at Bodo's Bagels on Tuesday, I saw that someone in an Izusu Ascender had double-parked. This huge SUV was sprawled diagonally across two perfectly good spots. I was a bit miffed - anyone who has been to Bodo's knows how crowded that parking lot gets. Just then, I saw a short woman in a black business suit and teased-up hair leave the restaurant and head straight for the Ascender. Well, I suppose that's alright, I reasoned calmly, she's about to leave, after all. So I pulled up behind her, waiting to take one of the two spots she was straddling.
I waited. And waited. Aaaand waited.
It took me a few minutes to realize ... she was eating in her car. She had doubled-parked in a crowded lot and she was in for the duration. I was mad enough to spit. All in a huff, I pulled around and began searching for another spot. I made sure to give her the ol' hairy eyeball as I passed.
Then I remembered the one and only time I ate in my car, all alone. It was during grad school, and I was visiting a clinic in northern Virginia. Everything had been going well until I was asked to assist on a chorionic villus sampling. The doctor kept telling me to angle the lamp I was holding to better illuminate the external os.
I passed out cold.
So there I was, forced to eat my chicken sandwich in the fast food restaurant's parking lot because I was too ashamed to face the other genetic counselors. Of course I eventually gathered up the tatters of my dignity and returned to finish out the rest of clinic. But I count that lunch hour as one of the most miserable in my life.
I forgave Ascender Lady - maybe she was having a day like that.