It was a hot Saturday, the kind where the air felt thick and you could almost chew on it. I was at the big farmers market down by the river, mostly just lookin around and enjoying the smells of fresh bread and them fancy soaps. I like going to places with lots of people, but only if I don’t gotta talk to too many of them. It’s a nice balance, you know? Like, I like being around the hum of things, but then I also like to just kinda keep to myself. I was thinking about my bearded dragon, Spike, back home, wonderin if he was enjoying his new heat lamp. He’s a good little fella, always chill, unlike some people you meet out in the world.
I was walking past the honey stand, which always makes me feel kinda sticky just by looking at it, when I saw the problem. It was a big, shiny black SUV, parked right where there was a clearly painted sign that said NO PARKING – FIRE LANE. You couldn’t miss it. The red paint was practically screaming at you. And it wasn’t just parked, it was blocking a good chunk of the walkway, making it hard for people with strollers or wheelchairs to get by. People was having to walk out into the road to get around it, and cars was trying to drive slow through the market area, so it was making a big mess.
A lady was just getting out of the driver’s side, kinda huffing and puffing like she was doing something super important. She had on a bright pink sunhat and big sunglasses, and she was carrying a baby in one of them fancy front carriers. The baby looked about six or seven months old, just kinda staring blankly ahead, like he’d seen it all before. I seen a lot of folks just shake their heads and grumble as they squeezed by, but nobody was saying nothing to her directly. That’s usually how I am too. I figure, someone else will deal with it, right? I just want to buy my homemade pickles and go home to Spike.
But then she started to pull a big, folded-up stroller out of the back of her SUV, still half-blocking the whole thing. The stroller looked real expensive, all shiny chrome and padded. She took her sweet time, like the world was gonna wait for her. A lady with a walker was trying to get past, and she had to stop and wait while the lady with the SUV slowly unfolded her stroller, taking up even more space. My tolerance for stuff like that is usually pretty long, but it was getting shorter with every minute this lady was just being so oblivious.
I finally got fed up. I walked over to the back of her SUV, not right up to her, but close enough so she could hear me easy. I said, real calm, that she might want to move her car becuase it was in a fire lane and blocking people. I tried to sound polite, like I was just giving helpful advice, not trying to start a big fuss. My voice was a little shaky, becuase I don’t usually do this. I’d rather avoid conflict, but sometimes you just gotta say something.
She turned around real slow, pulling off her big sunglasses and letting them hang from a chain around her neck. Her eyes narrowed at me, like I had just insulted her whole family. She looked at me up and down, like she was deciding if I was even worth talking to. The baby in the carrier just blinked, maybe a little annoyed by the sudden movement.
She said, her voice kinda high-pitched and whiny, that she was just gonna be a minute, and that she had a baby, so she needed to park close. She kinda gestured to the baby like that explained everything. I told her that lots of people had babies, and there was plenty of parking in the actual parking lot, just a bit of a walk. I also pointed out that the fire lane was for emergencies, not for convenience, and that if there was a real fire, her car would be in the way of the fire trucks. I thought that was a pretty clear thing to say, you know, a simple fact.
She kinda scoffed. She said she knew what she was doing, and that she was a good driver, so she wouldn’t cause any problems. Like her driving skill had anything to do with it being a fire lane. I felt my face getting hot, a clear sign that my calm was fading fast. It was just so dumb, you know? She just wasn’t understanding the basic point of the sign.
I told her, my voice getting a bit louder, that it wasn’t about her driving, it was about the rules, and about not blocking people. I said that some people couldn’t just walk around her car like it was nothing. As I was saying this, a little toy drone, one of them small ones kids fly, suddenly dropped out of the sky nearby. It hit the pavement with a surprisingly loud thud and broke into a couple pieces. A kid nearby let out a little cry, and a couple people looked over, then went back to their own business. It was just a quick moment of noise, but it made everyone jump a little, including me.
She took the brief distraction as her chance to try and make her point again. She started to push the stroller around the back of her car, still not moving the SUV. She said that she paid her taxes, and that she had a right to park where she needed to, especially with a baby. She also said she knew the market manager, and that he would understand. I knew for a fact that the market manager, Mr. Henderson, was a stickler for rules, and there was no way he’d be okay with this. I mean, he once gave me a lecture for leaning on a display, and I wasn’t even touching the produce!
I told her she was wrong, and that the market manager would not be happy with her breaking the rules. I was starting to feel this surge of energy, like I was finally gonna let all my frustration out. I didn’t care anymore about keeping the peace. She was being completely unreasonable, and I was going to call someone. I pulled out my phone and told her I was going to call the market security. I hoped that would make her see sense.
She just looked at me, a smirk on her face. She said, real slow, that I was making a big deal out of nothing, and that she would be gone in a few minutes anyway. She kinda waved her hand at me, like I was just a fly. The baby was starting to squirm a little, making little fussy noises, probably because his mom was being so loud. I called the market security number I had seen on a flyer earlier. It rang and rang, then went to voicemail. I left a message, explaining the situation, but I wasn’t feeling very hopeful. I knew security was stretched thin on busy days.
I put my phone away and just stood there, watching her. She finished getting her stroller ready, then she took the baby out of the carrier and put him in the stroller. She then walked around to the front of her SUV, opened the driver’s door, and pulled out a small purse. She looked at me one last time, a look of pure smugness on her face. Then, she just closed the car door, locked it, and started pushing the stroller away, walking into the market like she owned the place. She didn’t move her car. She just left it there, still blocking the fire lane, still making everyone walk around it. I stood there for a few more minutes, half-expecting security to show up, but no one did. The black SUV just sat there, baking in the sun, a monument to someone’s complete disregard for everyone else.
