Parking on campus freaks me out. Not because I’m worried about finding a spot on time for class, though that happens, but because I daily fear for my life, or at least the well-being of my poor little Oldsmobile.
It’s that point in the season when rainy days drive more students to the shelter of the Miller Auditorium parking structure. The search for a spot becomes a cut-throat hunt, with vehicles whipping around corners and speeding down aisles at the sight of tell-tale back-up lights.
It’s not just people looking for spaces either. I simply cannot understand why people find it so difficult to observe basic driving rules. Did we not all pass driver’s ed? I mean really you guys, drive on the right side of the lane. Just because you don’t see anyone else in your way does not mean the whole aisle is yours to fill. I’m pretty sure accidents don’t happen because the one at fault sees the other person in their way. Honestly.
I can’t even tell you how many time I’ve almost been blindsided by a careening vehicle. Parking is probably the most tension filled part of my day. I grip the wheel and inch my way into the parking garage lanes, hoping that if anyone is plowing through, they’ll notice my presence on time.
I’m complaining now, but I know that once snow starts falling, the madness will only skyrocket. Maybe this year I’ll just brave the snow drifts and scrape my windshield off. At least then I won’t be at the mercy of the dry-parking-space crazed masses.
