I’m going to open up a can of worms here. Opinion people.
On Saturday night The Artist and the children and I thundered down to our local and preferred Thai place as I was borderline hangry and things were starting to get out of control.
It is situated in the middle of a hotspot which also has a cinema adjacent to it. Getting a park is like trying to find a cab at 12am on a Saturday night at The Rocks. So the good people of the council or whoever built a carpark to solve the problem, which it has, to some extent. And to some extent I mean it does, except on a Saturday night.
So we did the perfunctionary drive around and then glided into the carpark swung down 6 floors until we almost came bonnet to concrete wall with a dead end. Problem. 8 point turn and up we went where we located two young ladies seemingly wandering aimlessly through the place. The Artist started to interrogate them (as you do) about whether they were going out and where they had parked. Miss13 pointed out that had he been on his own they might have become afraid and run back to a public place to seek assistance, such was his questioning tone. We proceeded to do another 8 point turn and wait for them on Level 4 while they paid for their ticket.
Subsequently on the level below I spotted three people appearing to walk with purpose to their vehicle. “Parking” I screeched excitedly, and The Artist put the pedal to the metal and approached quickly. Seeing us arrive with such enthusiasm they shamefacedly confessed that they had absolutely no clue where their car was. They were in fact wandering aimlessly. Problem. Another 8 point turn to burn rubber back to Level 4 to find that our original ladies were swinging out of their parking with a white car waiting on the ramp. The Artist made a strategic decision and whipped straight in. Like Sebastion Vettel in this year’s Malaysian Formula 1 Grand Prix. Picture the aforementioned white car as Mark Webber and you can imagine what happened next. Problem.
However, unlike the initially contrite Vettel, The Artist has missed his calling in life. Criminal Defence Lawyer. And the best form of defence is attack. He offered up an argument to the complainant that he had as much right to the parking as he had traversed the levels of the carpark three times (once, twice if you count the Level 5/4 thing) and even though the other man who had been waiting and thought he spotted it first, it was in fact, The Artist’s parking. Miss10 and I are not good in these conflicting situations and deserted ship to
get the hell out of there go and get a table.
Miss13 was staying for the drama. Bit of psycho in that one and is fond of a good train smash. The end result was apparently one of The Artist being called a bit of a “hole” and a bitch. He does not think that last remark was directed at him. Because apparently men can’t be called bitches.
Returning to our vehicle a massive ute thing pulled up at the paystation – some people just don’t walk to the paystation, they drive and get a mate to hop out and pay. The Artist
exclaimed loudly noticed that the driver was Paul Gallen, Captain of The Cronulla Sharks and NSW 2012 State of Origin team. They did that man nod thing. Like, yeah – I see you. Yeah – we’re cool. If I had known I was in the presence of greatness (it had to be explained to me who Paul Gallen was after the man nodding thing) I would have demanded a photo. I mean, seriously, who doesn’t post stuff like “look who I found on Saturday night when I was out for Thai food in the carpark”on Facebook if they have the opportunity? Next time. I kind of wondered quietly to myself whether The Artist would have swiped Paul Gallen’s parking if he had been the waiting vehicle. That might have made for some exciting stuff! Just saying.
But reverting to the issue at hand, if your spouse is hangry bordering on VERY hangry, is it technically okay to steal someone’s parking, that was kind of technically yours to begin with? Perfectly okay, or seriously wrong?
Love and light