parking karma
Though not obsessively, I spend the greater portion of my day thinking of, daydreaming about, mentally cursing or actually communicating with the boyfriend.
It starts in the morning when I awake to Ryan Seacrest and his pseudo-ingrate radio persona. Normally, the boyfriend doesn't subject his aural faculties to top 40 drivel but when he visits me, he is treated to pop songs that lower both our IQs to a collective 10 as we lay around and find ourselves unable to read magazines; we can only look at the pictures. When I hear Ryan Seacrest, I wonder if the boyfriend is also awake and like me, getting ready for his commute. As I turn my car onto the main road that leads to the freeway, I estimate how close to his office the boyfriend has driven. Sometimes I give him a call and we sit silently on our cellphones, each too drowsy to summon conversation. Most days, I just imagine and drive.
When I arrive at work, I log on to instant messenger and say hello to him. Thus begins our workday, 15 miles apart but face to face electronically. We discuss news headlines, office snafus, sometimes our lunch orders. Midday arrives and he tells me when he's leaving and moments later, I see his profile go "idle." When he's gone, I wonder when he will be back and if he's enjoying his food. When he returns, we discuss our meals, good or bad and ease into the afternoon with more chatter about our joint social plans and links to inappropriate video footage streaming on YouTube. When one of us leaves work, we say goodbye and as soon as the other is able, a call is placed and we again telecommute together. Some days we meet for dinner and jokes. Some days we go home to our respective apartments. On the days when we're apart, we speak again usually once before we sleep. This is our routine. When we're not speaking, I'm wondering how he is passing his time. I hope he's using it to clean his bathroom or run the dishwasher. He's probably playing his PlayStation. I scowl as I put away my clothes. Regardless, I miss him. Maybe it's one-sided. A boy who spends that much time thinking about a girl is wont for healthier activities. But a girl who ruminates as such is in love. No matter what small fights we have, at the end of the day, I await our last communiqué.
We hadn't planned to see each other until tomorrow. Imagine my delight this evening as I hunted for a parking space at a supermarket near my office and lo and behold, I saw the boyfriend's car approach from the opposite direction in the same aisle. It's noteworthy to mention that I shop less than once a month at this particular store. The boyfriend shops here even less. Even with those two factors, had I entered the plaza just one minute later or tried a different aisle for a spot or used the other entrance, we would hardly be the wiser. We may not have even discovered our missed chance meeting if we didn't discuss our after work plans in detail. This of course did not happen. We were meant to see each other, in the crowded parking lot, as shoppers with swaying white plastic bags fussed between our cars.
For a moment, I didn't think it was him. I had just been in the middle of a where is he right now thought. But, knowing the errands that he said he would run, an epiphany struck as I rolled down my window and he rolled down his. Despite all the thoughts I had of him both fleeting and extensive, despite our circadian digital discourse, the moment I saw his face, my heart skipped a beat. He smiled at me. I told him to park underground. I became nervous and wobbly in my head. We parked and I could hardly contain myself. It was like I was in high school again. It was like parking lot puppy love.
These moments happen less and less. Sometimes I get scared that they will diminish to the point of never happening at all. I certainly know couples who probably don't have these moments anymore or sadder still, never had these moments to begin with. If past lives exist, maybe the moment-less ones had their rip-roaring love affairs as passionate frogs in Belize and are only now cosmically frigid. Or perhaps I have the psychic power to will the boyfriend's appearance in my orbit. Excuse me while I go think about him some more. Think about his smile and the way his hair hangs in his eyes when it's long. Think about our gleeful hug in the subterrainian parking garage. Maybe think about him vacuuming; *shudder* an even more unlikely occurence.
It starts in the morning when I awake to Ryan Seacrest and his pseudo-ingrate radio persona. Normally, the boyfriend doesn't subject his aural faculties to top 40 drivel but when he visits me, he is treated to pop songs that lower both our IQs to a collective 10 as we lay around and find ourselves unable to read magazines; we can only look at the pictures. When I hear Ryan Seacrest, I wonder if the boyfriend is also awake and like me, getting ready for his commute. As I turn my car onto the main road that leads to the freeway, I estimate how close to his office the boyfriend has driven. Sometimes I give him a call and we sit silently on our cellphones, each too drowsy to summon conversation. Most days, I just imagine and drive.
When I arrive at work, I log on to instant messenger and say hello to him. Thus begins our workday, 15 miles apart but face to face electronically. We discuss news headlines, office snafus, sometimes our lunch orders. Midday arrives and he tells me when he's leaving and moments later, I see his profile go "idle." When he's gone, I wonder when he will be back and if he's enjoying his food. When he returns, we discuss our meals, good or bad and ease into the afternoon with more chatter about our joint social plans and links to inappropriate video footage streaming on YouTube. When one of us leaves work, we say goodbye and as soon as the other is able, a call is placed and we again telecommute together. Some days we meet for dinner and jokes. Some days we go home to our respective apartments. On the days when we're apart, we speak again usually once before we sleep. This is our routine. When we're not speaking, I'm wondering how he is passing his time. I hope he's using it to clean his bathroom or run the dishwasher. He's probably playing his PlayStation. I scowl as I put away my clothes. Regardless, I miss him. Maybe it's one-sided. A boy who spends that much time thinking about a girl is wont for healthier activities. But a girl who ruminates as such is in love. No matter what small fights we have, at the end of the day, I await our last communiqué.
We hadn't planned to see each other until tomorrow. Imagine my delight this evening as I hunted for a parking space at a supermarket near my office and lo and behold, I saw the boyfriend's car approach from the opposite direction in the same aisle. It's noteworthy to mention that I shop less than once a month at this particular store. The boyfriend shops here even less. Even with those two factors, had I entered the plaza just one minute later or tried a different aisle for a spot or used the other entrance, we would hardly be the wiser. We may not have even discovered our missed chance meeting if we didn't discuss our after work plans in detail. This of course did not happen. We were meant to see each other, in the crowded parking lot, as shoppers with swaying white plastic bags fussed between our cars.
For a moment, I didn't think it was him. I had just been in the middle of a where is he right now thought. But, knowing the errands that he said he would run, an epiphany struck as I rolled down my window and he rolled down his. Despite all the thoughts I had of him both fleeting and extensive, despite our circadian digital discourse, the moment I saw his face, my heart skipped a beat. He smiled at me. I told him to park underground. I became nervous and wobbly in my head. We parked and I could hardly contain myself. It was like I was in high school again. It was like parking lot puppy love.
These moments happen less and less. Sometimes I get scared that they will diminish to the point of never happening at all. I certainly know couples who probably don't have these moments anymore or sadder still, never had these moments to begin with. If past lives exist, maybe the moment-less ones had their rip-roaring love affairs as passionate frogs in Belize and are only now cosmically frigid. Or perhaps I have the psychic power to will the boyfriend's appearance in my orbit. Excuse me while I go think about him some more. Think about his smile and the way his hair hangs in his eyes when it's long. Think about our gleeful hug in the subterrainian parking garage. Maybe think about him vacuuming; *shudder* an even more unlikely occurence.
posted by Katie at 10:03 PM
2 Comments:
I spent my Friday night combing the supermarket (and one Target) parking lots of San Diego looking for the man who makes my heart skip a beat. Much to my dismay, all I saw was a vagrant who was peeing by the dumpster and a neo-hippie asking me if I've registered to vote.
You should have pointed the neo-hippie towards the vagrant. I bet he's not registered.
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