My Saturday morning is a special time for my rituals. I like to wake up early, make my strong coffee, and then arrange my books. I have a big collection, and they are all placed on shelves in order of when they were first printed. It brings me much comfort to see them like this, knowing exactly where each one sits in history. After this, I usually go to the big grocery store on Elm Street. It is always busy, but I like to finish my shopping before lunch.
Today, like every Saturday, I drove to the store. The parking lot was full, like always. Finding a good spot takes time. I found one near the back, not too far from the entrance. It was a good spot. I got out of my car, ready to get my reusable bags from the trunk, when I saw her. She was driving a big, shiny black SUV. It was one of those very expensive cars, very clean. She drove past many empty spots and then, with no hesitation, pulled right into the fire lane. This lane is painted with bright red stripes and says “NO PARKING – FIRE LANE” in big white letters. Everyone knows you cannot park there. It is for emergencies, for when people need help very fast.
She stopped her car in the middle of the red stripes, directly blocking a good part of the entrance path. There was a little boy with her, maybe eight or nine years old. He looked tired. He got out of the car after her, slowly. The woman, she wore very nice clothes, a bright pink top and white pants. Her hair was a light yellow color and perfectly done. She grabbed a small purse and started walking towards the store, like she had done nothing wrong. The little boy just looked at the car, then at the bright red paint under it, and then at his mom. He sighed a small sigh, like he had done this many times before. She did not even look back at him. She just kept walking, expecting him to follow. He did, with his head a little bit down.
I stood there for a moment, my hands on my shopping bags, watching her. It was such a clear rule, one that kept everyone safe. To just ignore it like that felt very strange to me. It made me feel a twist in my stomach, like things were not in their proper place. Other cars had to drive around her big SUV. Some drivers honked their horns, but she just looked forward, not even turning her head. It was as if the sounds were not for her. A store worker, wearing a green apron, came out pushing a line of shopping carts. He stopped and looked at the SUV with a frustrated face. He pulled out his phone, probably to call someone from the store to deal with it, but then he just shook his head and kept pushing the carts, maybe thinking it was not his job.
I walked closer to the entrance, still thinking about the situation. The SUV was big. It made it hard for people with strollers or wheelchairs to get by easily. It was not just a small problem; it was causing a real block. As I got to the entrance, the woman was just inside, looking at a display of fresh fruit. She was holding a bright red apple, turning it over in her hand, like she was deciding if it was perfect enough for her. Her son was standing a little way behind her, still with that tired look. I saw a parking enforcement sign, a blue one, right near where her car was parked. It showed the big fines for parking in a fire lane. It said the car could even be towed away.
I walked past the display and stood a little closer to her, not too close. I did not want to bother her, but I also felt a need for order to be restored. I picked up a bunch of bananas and pretended to examine them very closely. I spoke, not to her directly, but loud enough so she would hear me. I said, “Oh, my goodness, I just heard on the radio this morning about the new rules for parking in fire lanes. They are really cracking down today. A friend of mine, she got a ticket just last week, and it was over three hundred dollars! Can you believe it? Three hundred dollars just for a few minutes.”
The woman, she turned her head a little bit, just a quick glance at me, then went back to her apple. She did not say anything. She just seemed to ignore my words. But then, as I was pretending to weigh my bananas, a very loud, sharp noise came from outside. It was a big, booming sound, like something very heavy had dropped onto the concrete. Everyone in the entrance hall jumped a little. The little boy flinched. The sound was so sudden and strong. Then, after the loud sound, there was a strange, whirring noise that kept going, like a machine had broken outside. It made a high-pitched, irritating hum. It seemed to come from the direction of the parking lot.
I continued to speak, still in my loud, thoughtful voice, as if talking to myself. “And not just the fines, you know,” I continued, pretending to check a banana for spots. “They are towing cars so fast now. Especially big ones, they say, because they cause the most trouble. Imagine, coming out of the store with your groceries, and your car is gone! Then you have to find a ride, get to the impound lot, pay the towing fee, the storage fee, plus the parking ticket. It’s such a hassle. A real waste of time, especially on a busy Saturday. It can take hours to get your car back. And with a child, too, that would be very inconvenient.” I looked over at the little boy, who was now rubbing his ears because of the constant whirring sound from outside. He looked even more tired.
The woman, she finally put her apple down. She picked up another one, but her eyes were not on the apple anymore. She looked out the big glass doors towards the parking lot. The whirring noise was still going, making it hard to think. She seemed to be thinking about what I had said. Her perfect eyebrows moved together a little. She looked at her son, who was still making a face because of the sound. She probably imagined trying to get home without her car. Or paying all that money. She liked her big, shiny car very much. She probably did not like the idea of it being towed.
She gave a little huff, a sound of annoyance, but it was not aimed at me. It was like she was annoyed by the situation, not by my words. She turned to her son. She said something to him, not unkindly, but with a firm voice, something like, “Come on, let’s just go.” She put the apple back without buying it. She walked quickly towards the doors, pulling the boy along. I watched her go. She went right to her big SUV, opened the door, and got in. I saw her back up, out of the fire lane, and then she drove away, past the annoying whirring sound, and out of the parking lot. She did not even go to find a proper parking spot.
I finished getting my bananas. The loud whirring sound from outside finally stopped, like someone had turned off a broken machine. I still wondered what it was. I got my other groceries and went to check out. As I paid, I could not help but think about her. She probably thought she was so smart, leaving before she got caught. She probably thought she had outsmarted the system. But it also made me feel a little bit uneasy. People like her, they do not care about rules unless it directly affects them. They do not care about the order of things. What if I see her again? What if she tries to do something like this another time? It makes me feel a little bit worried, thinking about the next Saturday, and what I might see in the parking lot then.
