Category: parking lot attendants have rich inner lives
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No More Blue
Bringin’ it home with Part III. ———————————————- A few days after the God of the Parking Lot Attendant blessed me and washed my blackened heart clean, I exited the parking ramp again. Delightfully, it was David–not his gristly, plucked-chicken, Vikings-loving, puka-shell sporting compatriot–working the booth. It’s a real crapshoot, the exiting of a parking ramp.…
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He’s Making a List and Checking It Twice: For Only With Such Careful Reviewal Can He Be Certain No One Named ‘Pedro’ Gets a Train
“That’ll be $1.50,” announced the parking lot attendant from inside his air-conditioned box. Eyes twinkling, cheeks rosy, beard fluffy, he followed up with a jolly, “So…what’s new at the zoo?” It was hard not to grin back at this Santa Claus look-alike, especially because I haven’t exactly been a good girl this year, but I…