When car parks attack
MY SENSE of direction has not always been well tuned. In fact there is sufficient evidence to convict me of being hopelessly lost in trying to apply myself to even basic journeys.
My sole defence is I am just a mere country boy who is likely to get a nose bleed when I leave the city limits.
Some years ago when my family had travelled to Bonalbo, leaving me with instructions to ‘take the turn at the sawmill … you can’t miss it’, my innate sense of geography led me to not only miss the turn, but to proceed to Tenterfield where I found a phone booth and received directions – given through shrieks of laughter and other forms of mocking. No wonder my confidence for going on ventures was seriously compromised after such an episode.
Being hours from home is difficult for anyone and it was after all … in the dark. So brings me to another distressing tale of misadventure when I went to Lismore Shopping Square a few weeks back.
The pending Christmas period meant parking was at a premium and going round and round finding that elusive parking spot clearly got me disorientated. The events (which are still a bit distressing to talk about) went horribly ‘pear shaped’ when I tried to return to my car after some shopping.
Much to my horror, I could not find my vehicle. It ‘must’ be somewhere I thought as I circumnavigated the carpark desperately hoping that every car was mine. Like an awful experience somewhere between Home Alone and Alien, I thought I would be caught for days.
Eventually a kind soul came to my rescue and while I could not identify my vehicle by registration number, nor where I had entered the carpark, I was almost certain of the colour and we eventually located it. I did take a positive experience from the incident however. Did you know that the carpark is colour coded?
Gee, it could have really helped to know that two hours earlier …