Words and Thoughts: A Parking Lot Made of Water
Hello again, alleged readers! This last weekend, the parking lot where I go to place bets with squirrels on which cars are left unlocked, was closed for paving. With my entire source of weekend entertainment effectively closed for construction, I went down to the docks.
The docks are always exciting. Ne’er-do-wells and the well to do all mingling about where the land meets the sea. An exciting cacophony of sea birds and people either making wake or yelling “no wake!”. Yes, when you can’t be at the parking lot, the docks are certainly another place to be.
After only moments at the docks, I spotted a pirate, about to board his ship. I said, “You there, Mr. Pirate man! I demand to be brought aboard your vessel”. You have to be very confident and direct with Pirates, everyone knows this. “You will take me out yonder to sea!” I explained to him.
“I’m not a pirate and I’m just taking my family for a short sail in our dinghy” the Pirate lied in response. Pirates are shifty folk.
“Nonsense, Pirate man!” I yelled as I stormed aboard his ship.
His crew was a motley bunch. There was one female pirate, older than the rest of the crew. And then there were two very small pirates disguised as children. Children are allowed in places pirates aren’t, like banks, and Denny’s… places where treasure is hidden. Naturally it would make sense for these two pirates to masquerade around as children.
I kicked one of the small pirates squarely in their peg-leg. A proper pirate greeting. And as is tradition, the pirate pretended it wasn’t a peg leg. “My shin, my shin!” the diminutive pirate shouted.
“Yes yes, ‘my shin’ to you too!”, I politely responded, as is customary. I was already practically part of the crew. “Onward! To the horizon!” I shouted to the crew, spitting bits of the line holding the boat to the dock that I had started chewing through, in my excitement to begin our adventure on the high seas.
And then we were off. Sailing into a world of limitless possibilities that only the infinitely churning tide can bring. And then, pretty much immediately, I remembered that I usually get incredibly seasick. I remembered because at that very moment, I was actively throwing up everywhere. It was getting on the crew, and was all over everything.
There are three Arby’s between my house and the docks. Four if I take the scenic route. I took the scenic route. And everyone knows Ol’ Stav can’t resist a Half Pound Beef ‘N Cheddar and curly fries whenever there’s an Arby’s. And again, there were four.
“Back to the dock!” I commanded amid my projectile spewing of what once was Arby’s. Eager to get off the boat I jumped for land, but grossly misjudged the distance from the boat to land, and fell in the water. It was probably for the best, because while most of the former Arby’s was on the crew and their boat, some had unavoidably gotten on me. I swam the couple more feet to the dock, hauled myself out of the water, shook myself off, and headed home, getting Arby’s on the way. Four times.
What a day it had been! I think the parking lot is open next weekend again, but it just goes to show you there’s a whole world of adventure out there beyond our daily routine!
