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While I was on a monthlong road trip to scope out potential places to relocate to, I spent a little time visiting my sister in Atlanta, GA. She couldn't afford to take days off from her courier job so I rode along with her. As a courier, her general job procedure is: drive like crazy to one location, spend five minutes picking up a package, drive like crazy to the delivery location, trade package for a signature from the recipient, leap back into car like a flying squirrel, and repeat. On this particular day, one of our stops (don't recall if we were picking up or dropping off) was a very small hospital in a small, rural town that, where I'm from, would have been called a suburb.
We took a quick lap around the property before stopping the car in what looked like a pullout zone for five-minute tasks such as these. It was huge and empty, and I didn't see any "patient loading zone" signs, or anything resembling a "no parking" designation, so we went for it. Sis killed the engine and took her keys with her, along with her courier goods, and dashed into the building. Maybe 45-60 seconds after she entered the building, this unfolded.
V: Volunteer (according to her photo ID, though I suspect the ID badge was just the only blank they had on-hand when she had hers made, and that her actual title was Demon Lord of Parking Facilities)
Sis: My sister, the courier
Me: Wishing I could afford to pay Sis to take the day off work instead!
V: *knocks on windshield, then opens driver-side door, which would have scared me a lot more except V had already demonstrated her level of critical thinking skills by opening the driver's door to talk to the passenger in a car with all of its windows down* You can't park here.
Me: I'm sorry, I didn't realize that. Sis is a courier; she's just handling a package, and she's got the keys with her. As soon as she gets back, we'll move the car, and it won't happen again.
Should be the end of it, right? Yeah, right. She leaned even closer into the car, so that she's actually inside with me, from the waist up.
V: Yeah, see, the problem is you can't park here. This is for dropping off and loading patients only. You need to move to the parking garage. I have to call security if you park here. I'll wait five minutes, but if she doesn't move her car, I have to call security. (This speech will henceforth be known as "V's three points"... you'll see why in a minute.)
Oooookay, little bit freaky, but five minutes, that'll work. It takes about 3-5 minutes to make each stop, and even if it takes longer, it'll take security a minute to show up, and the towing company a good 10 minutes at most, and that's if they're just sitting around waiting for a call. V can do her sworn duty, and Sis likely won't get anything worse than a stern warning from the hospital security guard, and all's well. I nod and say "yes, ma'am" and that's the end of it, right? Riiiiiight. V straightens up just enough to look around at the various doors, as if scanning the area for unseen threats, then leans back in and keeps talking at me.
V: *V's three points, twice over, with slightly different words*
Me:
Yes, I'm very sorry. I must not have seen the sign that said this was a no-parking zone, and as soon as the courier gets back with the keys, we will move the car.
V: Oh no, there aren't any signs. You just can't park here. It's for patient dropoff and pickup only. Everybody knows that. *V's three points. Again.*
Me: *reconsidering my idea to move to Atlanta* I cannot move the car without the keys. Sis is handling a package, and when she gets back with the keys, we will leave immediately.
V: You're couriers?
Me: Yes ma'am, we sure are. *pointing to the huge logo on the car*
V: And the driver of the car has the keys?
Me: Yes ma'am, I'm very sorry about this. *you know, everyone I met in Fort Lauderdale seemed bright, maybe I'd like to live there*
V: You tell her she has to stop parking here. *V's three points*
Me: If you have to call security, that's all right with me. I'd move if I could, but I don't know how to hot-wire a car, so I have to wait for Sis to get back with the keys.
V: Well, but see, I have to go call security.
Me: *gives up talking and decides to never visit this city again, due to the severe IQ shortage*
V: *V's three points, over and over and over and... you get the idea*
Sis: *overhears a couple cycles of V's points as she approaches the car* I'm sorry, I didn't know, and I won't park here again!
V is still, at this point, holding onto the car door in one hand, the car frame in the other, and is leaning over with her upper body stuck into the car, babbling at me. Sis has to shove past V in order to get into the car, and then tugs the door out of V's hand and stares very pointedly at V's other hand, before V gets the hint and lets go of the car. Unfortunately, it's a lovely Georgia summer afternoon, so our car windows are wide open, much like the throttle on V's righteous fury.
V: *throws three MORE cycles of her three points at Sis, before I stopped counting them*
Me: (quietly enough that V can't hear) She won't shut up, just drive away before she decides to call the cops on us for politely listening to her!
So Sis starts the car, checks that V's not done anything dumb like put her feet under a wheel, and we pull away. V follows us on foot for the entire length of the not-parking area, repeating her three points the entire time, then walks back to the doorway of the building and stares silently at us, while holding a phone to her ear, as Sis very carefully drives the 5mph speed limit all the way to the property exit. I don't know what the V's problem was, but I do know one thing. After my visit to Atlanta, Husband and I are scheduling a house-hunting trip -- to Florida.
We took a quick lap around the property before stopping the car in what looked like a pullout zone for five-minute tasks such as these. It was huge and empty, and I didn't see any "patient loading zone" signs, or anything resembling a "no parking" designation, so we went for it. Sis killed the engine and took her keys with her, along with her courier goods, and dashed into the building. Maybe 45-60 seconds after she entered the building, this unfolded.
V: Volunteer (according to her photo ID, though I suspect the ID badge was just the only blank they had on-hand when she had hers made, and that her actual title was Demon Lord of Parking Facilities)
Sis: My sister, the courier
Me: Wishing I could afford to pay Sis to take the day off work instead!
V: *knocks on windshield, then opens driver-side door, which would have scared me a lot more except V had already demonstrated her level of critical thinking skills by opening the driver's door to talk to the passenger in a car with all of its windows down* You can't park here.
Me: I'm sorry, I didn't realize that. Sis is a courier; she's just handling a package, and she's got the keys with her. As soon as she gets back, we'll move the car, and it won't happen again.
Should be the end of it, right? Yeah, right. She leaned even closer into the car, so that she's actually inside with me, from the waist up.
V: Yeah, see, the problem is you can't park here. This is for dropping off and loading patients only. You need to move to the parking garage. I have to call security if you park here. I'll wait five minutes, but if she doesn't move her car, I have to call security. (This speech will henceforth be known as "V's three points"... you'll see why in a minute.)
Oooookay, little bit freaky, but five minutes, that'll work. It takes about 3-5 minutes to make each stop, and even if it takes longer, it'll take security a minute to show up, and the towing company a good 10 minutes at most, and that's if they're just sitting around waiting for a call. V can do her sworn duty, and Sis likely won't get anything worse than a stern warning from the hospital security guard, and all's well. I nod and say "yes, ma'am" and that's the end of it, right? Riiiiiight. V straightens up just enough to look around at the various doors, as if scanning the area for unseen threats, then leans back in and keeps talking at me.
V: *V's three points, twice over, with slightly different words*
Me:
Yes, I'm very sorry. I must not have seen the sign that said this was a no-parking zone, and as soon as the courier gets back with the keys, we will move the car.V: Oh no, there aren't any signs. You just can't park here. It's for patient dropoff and pickup only. Everybody knows that. *V's three points. Again.*
Me: *reconsidering my idea to move to Atlanta* I cannot move the car without the keys. Sis is handling a package, and when she gets back with the keys, we will leave immediately.
V: You're couriers?
Me: Yes ma'am, we sure are. *pointing to the huge logo on the car*
V: And the driver of the car has the keys?
Me: Yes ma'am, I'm very sorry about this. *you know, everyone I met in Fort Lauderdale seemed bright, maybe I'd like to live there*
V: You tell her she has to stop parking here. *V's three points*
Me: If you have to call security, that's all right with me. I'd move if I could, but I don't know how to hot-wire a car, so I have to wait for Sis to get back with the keys.
V: Well, but see, I have to go call security.
Me: *gives up talking and decides to never visit this city again, due to the severe IQ shortage*
V: *V's three points, over and over and over and... you get the idea*
Sis: *overhears a couple cycles of V's points as she approaches the car* I'm sorry, I didn't know, and I won't park here again!
V is still, at this point, holding onto the car door in one hand, the car frame in the other, and is leaning over with her upper body stuck into the car, babbling at me. Sis has to shove past V in order to get into the car, and then tugs the door out of V's hand and stares very pointedly at V's other hand, before V gets the hint and lets go of the car. Unfortunately, it's a lovely Georgia summer afternoon, so our car windows are wide open, much like the throttle on V's righteous fury.
V: *throws three MORE cycles of her three points at Sis, before I stopped counting them*
Me: (quietly enough that V can't hear) She won't shut up, just drive away before she decides to call the cops on us for politely listening to her!
So Sis starts the car, checks that V's not done anything dumb like put her feet under a wheel, and we pull away. V follows us on foot for the entire length of the not-parking area, repeating her three points the entire time, then walks back to the doorway of the building and stares silently at us, while holding a phone to her ear, as Sis very carefully drives the 5mph speed limit all the way to the property exit. I don't know what the V's problem was, but I do know one thing. After my visit to Atlanta, Husband and I are scheduling a house-hunting trip -- to Florida.
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