Parking Structures

I HATE Parking Structures. More specifically, I hate this scenario: A car in front of me decides to wait for a pedestrian walking to their car when there is clearly going to be a wealth open spots on the upper levels of the structure. Being stuck behind this driver could be used as torture on me and I would give up national secrets after about 2 minutes. Of course, there are exceptions. If the person is pregnant or in some way physically impaired and must have a spot close to where they are going or if the lot is truly packed and there are no spots anywhere, then fine, wait for that slow walker. But, if the person is able-bodied and they decide to hold up even a few cars for the chance of a spot opening up in the near future, my blood begins to boil. Here is an easy way to remember what to do, "If the reverse lights aren't on, move along."

Now, my rage can occasionally backfire and sometimes my friends are caught in the middle. Zac, Ben, and I were caught in just such an unfortunate situation on one of our many trips to The Vegas. In the parking structure at the Bellagio Hotel and Casino (a lot basically designed with the thought that there should always be an open spot somewhere), some genius decides to wait for a spot to open up near the exit of one of the levels. It wasn't even in a prime location. But, because it was near the exit, and because the person leaving the spot took and exceptionally long time to execute that maneuver, this genius created an extraordinarily large back-up of cars who were all just trying to leave the structure. The line was so long that it wrapped down the isle and then doubled back down the next isle where we waited at the end of this line-up about exactly opposite to the perpetrator of this terrible crime. I don't know who honked first (it may have been me), but what followed was the most glorious outpouring of automotive honkery that I have ever heard. When the spot finally opened up and we were freed from our concrete prison, we were in a position to count the cars that were held up by this terrorist. 14! I ... I have no words for the rage that I felt.

Well, even-tempered Zac, playing off of my rage, decided to roll down his window and, as we passed the perpetrator, he yelled something on the order of, "Hey, F*** you A**-hole!" I thought it was hilarious, until two seconds later when I had to slam on the breaks because the 14 cars that this guy had held up had now reached a stop light at the base of the ramp leading away from the structure. So there we stopped, about a yard away from the genius "we" had just cussed out. The cherry on top was the family of six on Ben's side of the car with the mom's hands over the youngest child's ears shaking her head in disgust. There being no escape, we all just sank down in our seats and waited for the stack of cars to get moving again. It felt like an eternity, it was probably about 30 seconds. Too far? Probably. But, seriously, 14 cars?! He couldn't have just moved onto the next level?! As a new parent, I regret that the kids had to be put through that vulgarity, but if that guy never holds up a line of 14 cars for 5 min again, it may have been worth it.