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The Perfect Parking

08/03/2013

The Perfect Parking

There’s a parking spot right below my place with four directions for ventilation and this little charming bay which I manage to catch only once a month. The only disadvantage of this luxurious parking is that it’s very hard to leave and not in the physics sense. When I enter the car, start the engine and turn the steering wheel I imagine to myself that somewhere in Tel Aviv there’s a population of people who retired from this world because of a parking spot that was too good. On one of the evenings they turned down an offer to go to a pub so as not to leave the perfect parking spot. The morning after they reported sick to work. In the evening they declined an offer to go to a movie. The next day they reported sick again. After two weeks they resigned their job and found a home job. In the absence of willingness to make a step or more accurately to drive towards their friends their social network had shrunk rapidly. An ever increasing tendency to refuse to leave not only the parking spot but also the little personal square they function in could not but leave a mark in the realm of relationship. A year to three after that cursed afternoon their life looked like a mirror image: the car parks in the parking spot, its owner parks his life in the apartment. Some have even gone further and asked in their will to be buried in the car in order to go on enjoying the perfect parking postmortem. Others moved their lives into the car and would frequent the apartment only in order to take showers or look at their car from an angle in which they could experience time and again the great fortune bestowed upon them.

 

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