Carnies can’t park
July 14, 2009
Maybe not carnies specifically – like the people hired to work in a carnival – but definitely the workers who gather to put together the carnival.
These louts join in parking lots all over our great nation and smoke cigarettes and wield menacing tools while they put together dangerous rides and rip-off games.
Oh, I love me a town fair. But that’s not what I’m talking about.
You know of which I speak. The haphazard, rusted-metal collection of amusements that are tossed together overnight in the parking lot of a closed Bradlees or an abandoned Drive-In Theater.
And why am I against them? Except for the fact people lose fingers and limbs on a regular basis from these vicious rides. I don’t like the way in which they park.
Really. Parking is important to me. And today, when I parked near a carnival in Scituate, MA I affirmed that carnies are my most hated group because they can’t park.
Picture my scooter in a parking spot with an empty spot on either side. Then flash forward ten minutes to when a huge pickup truck parked over the line in a spot beside the scooter. Then flash forward again when a wrench-carrying, smoking worker parked over the line on the other side of the scooter.
OK. These parking transgressions might not be major, but in light of the fact that carnies performed them, I took offense.
Well, no, I didn’t say anything to the carnies. I just hopped on my scooter and drove off into the noontime sun.
I might be opinionated but I’m not stupid. When’s the last time someone confronted a smoking, bad-parking carnie and lived to tell about it?
I thought so.
What’s been your most recent harrowing tale?
More to come…