The other day my wife and I were sitting in her car in the Smith's parking lot in Price waiting for someone who was was supposed to meet us there.
"I am supposed to meet her just behind the gas station so we will park out at the end so she can find us," my wife had told me before we left home.
I instantly knew this idea of parking there could be a potential disaster.
"Do you know what that end of the parking lot is like?" I asked her, envisioning all that I have seen go there (traffic wise) over the years.
"It will be fine," she said. "That is where we are supposed to meet."
When we got there I looked around 20 ways to be sure we were not in the line of fire.
"You'll see," I said. "This could be dangerous. Even your vundercar (what I call the car she loves so much) can't save us from the crazys that drive through here."
My words weren't even out of my mouth when a young girl in a Volkswagen Bug came within a VW minute of us.
"This is like standing in a shooting gallery with no one really aiming at you, but everyone who is shoting being a very bad shot."
Just then a rice burner buzzed the back fender making the car rock.
"Can't they see us?" my wife asked.
"Probably not," I said as a Landcruiser aimed right as us and then weaved away at the last moment.. "They are too busy talking to people on cell phones or thinking about their problems to notice we are parked here."
We were in a clearly marked space and sitting very still. At one point five cars zeroed in on each other and two avoiding collisions with the others almost got us."
"We are sitting ducks," my wife said excitedly.
"I think we are more like sitting Dodos," I said as I watched a young man in a red sportscar head right for us. He was busy talking to the cute girl across the seat from him. She pointed and he avoided us.
"I can't believe this," she said. "Aren't they supposed to go in the lanes and not cut across?"
"No," I said. "There are no rules in this lot."
I pointed out the stop sign that was on the curb near where the road cuts through from 100 North to Main Street.
"When they come through they are supposed to use that lane, but no one does," I said as I watched a woman with a cart full of groceries go to a car that had been abandoned by all others and was now in the far end of the lot. She was almost run over three times. "Of course you are not suppose to cut through at all. There are streets like 700 East, but no one wants to go to that trouble."
Just then a man on a bicycle zipped through the lot. Five cars came to a screeching halt to avoid hitting him. They all sat there staring at each other for a micro-second and then put the pedal to the metal top see who got out of the gauntlet first.
"Well this place is dangerous," she said.
Being fair (as I always am) I pointed out that there were other lots in town that are bad too.
"So is the lot at Walmart," I said. "That's got those little dividers that funnel the traffic into the lot and then the floodgates are open. Sometimes I watch people that head to the Main Street exit there and they race to beat each other, all the while other people are trying to get in."
NASCAR has nothing on watching parking lots in Price for exciting motor sports.
"Then there is the entrance by the Chinese place in Creekview," I pointed out. "With that one when you turn in if the hood of your car is more than two feet long you can't see for at least 30 feet and as you come down into it who knows what might await you."
Then of course I had to bring up the sorest spot of all, the lot that extends between Kmart and the stores in Creekview. One day years ago my wife was driving my truck down the designated pathway out of the lot there and an oly Mercury plowed right in front of her. She T-boned that Zepherm ending its life for good.
"This isn't just a problem in Price though," I said. "It's everywhere and in everyone."
Just then the woman she came to meet pulled up, in a big two ton truck I might mention. She knew how to do it I thought.
They gabbed for a minute and my wife got back in and directed me to leave. I followed the rules of the Price Parking Lot Association, pulled out of the spot without looking, cut in front of five cars and made eveyone wait for me.
My wife looked at me.
"Well I was just following local protocol," I said. "When in Rome..."