The Parking Lot

Drawing on the last bits of energy from another long and exhausting week at the office, my right hand picks up the wireless mouse, turning it over to flick off the power button. I set the mouse into the top drawer on top of pens, board markers and the office toothbrush. It’s an idealistic gesture at the end of every work week that has become a ritual of sorts to put closure between myself and the office. I slide the drawer back into its place and shove the wired keyboard back against the wall beneath the dual monitors. Standing up, I push my chair beneath the desk and pickup my Timbuktu messenger bag. Pulling my work jacket off the coat rack, tugging on my toque and gloves, I flip the light switch off closing down the final tasks of the week. With mixed emotions of accomplishment I turn down the hallway noticing the dark spaces leading out of the building. Everyone has departed leaving me to tidy up and set the alarm.

The journey across the parking lot is not terribly long but the parking lot lights glean off the wet tarmac revealing a crystal-like affect as if the stones were actually embedded within the surface. Its unbelievably warm out here for the middle of November. A warm streak of weather called a chinook in this part of the world. Instinctively my hand goes into my jacket pocket and my fingers fumble with the key fob until they depress the 3rd button. Up around the corner of the building an engine purrs to life and the fob beeps signalling that the car has started. As I tug at the flap on my messenger bag, fumbling around inside searching for an apple, the car slowly pushes warm air into its cabin.

Withdrawing the apple, I look at the fruit wondering if its going to be as “flowery” as the one yesterday? My stomach growls as I open wide and bite down into the soft flesh. Slowly chewing on the apple as I continue to slowly stroll across the parking lot towards the car with its front and rear headlights are still on. I’m revelling in the warm breeze, reluctant to sit in a car and drive half-an-hour towards home. Instead of driving home, I unlock the driver’s side door and swing it open. I toss the bag across the centre console and drop my keys onto the dashboard. Then I slowly shut the door towards the frame of the car but leave it cracked open. The sirens have begun to come closer, I think as I finish off the last few bites of apple around its core then chuck its remains into the nearby field.

I can feel mother nature begging at the front of my trousers and think that I should have used the restroom before departing the building. I glance around the parking lot but no one is near. I do not see any bodies moving in the darkness or lingering around the lot. Carefully, I step between a guard rail and a semi-trailer stepping back a few feet where I conceal myself near its rear tires and unzip. As the pee streams out of my body, it splatters onto a rear tire and drips down to the asphalt.

As I am nearly finished with my parking lot interlude, sirens which were off in the distance are finally nearing my location as the police car screams down the highway shattering the parking lots’ darkness and silence. As soon as the flashing lights and hollering sounds have disappeared down the roadway. I zip up, spin on my heals and head back towards the truck. It is then I notice a chill on my hands and upon my face. The soft chilling elements of the air around the parking lot structures have cooled me off. Smiling I reach for the car door yanking it open, inhaling a deep cool night breeze and sit down into the drivers seat shutting the door beside me. Finally the week is over and the weekend is here!