First-semester UH freshman Lori King was given the assignment of recording her thoughts on the campus and its people. This week, she gives us her thoughts on everyone's favorite pastime.
At the beginning of this semester, when I began this project, I made myself a promise - oh, yes, I did. A promise that I, Lori S. King, P.I. (you know, like Magnum ... ) would avoid one subject like the plague.
Do you want to know what that was? Well, I'll give you a hint. It starts with a "p-," ends with an "-ing" and has "-ark-" in the middle.
Oh - and everybody hates it.
If you are one of the more clever cookies who has figured out my very personal cryptic code (and I hope that you are), perhaps you are also clever enough to realize why I have chosen to discuss it very little in the past.
Yes, that's right, too! Because everybody and their gerbil companions constantly complain about it, night and day, breakfast, lunch and dinner, straight through Gilligan's Island right into As the World Turns ... all this conversation and chitter chatter about you-know-what. Yes - that thing that we all hate.
So I've tried to stray. I've dabbled in commuting, mafia squirrels and Blimpie carts. I've sat and pondered many a different thing on campus, yes I have. Yet it's true: I always keep coming back to that grossly obvious situation. And so would you, if you dealt with what I deal with every day. And you know what? I'm sure that you do.
Up until now, I have survived my yearnings bravely. I have saved my own never-ending complaints for group therapy and late-night telephone conversations with my mother (which always really annoy her because we live in the same house - but I think it's a special time).
But now you see me here, buckling under pressure...
Under the pressure of walking to and from Outlying Lot 755ZAZXYZ one time too many, of sadly following people around, or actually being followed by someone else, all in the individual belief that somebody somewhere is going to his car, and when they do, somebody somewhere is going to leave.
Under the pressure of never having the luxury of finding a spot at all and having to re-enroll somewhere in Alaska, where the administration didn't oversell the number of spots in which we all leave our vehicles and where people can park their snowmobiles at their leisure.
I'm considering going out right now to buy a parka, if anybody else wants to come ...
Another interesting point about that thing we all hate is that it really isn't a safe situation for people or their cars.
Though I know that for some ungodly reason this wouldn't be possible, I'm a firm believer in having a tighter watch over these spaces by officials who might be able to deter or even (heaven forbid) stop the insanely dangerous things going on out there in the middle of the day, much less the middle of the night.
People have walked into lots recently with their purses and belongings and have then been forced to leave the lots without their purses and belongings.
This is scary, guys. I seriously urge everyone to be more careful and take advantage of the police escorts that are available to you at night, and probably in the day too. I've seem them do it before, and it's really not a bad idea at all.
So let's review the situation: It's really, really hard to find a place to let your car rest, and after you do, you have to be extremely careful in making sure that you and your puke-green '83 Diatribe (um ... it's German, I think) leave the place that we all hate unscathed and healthy.
All I can say is to use caution and arrive early. Whoops - I gotta go now. My mom just walked in and asked why my hubcap is missing (I thought that wheel looked funny!). Until next time, my friends, when I will continue to discuss other things I have promised not to discuss ...