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Parking.

by P.

Spinning around Kidderminster's ring road, you had to have you wits about you not to get flung out in a tangential direction. As a kid riding the wurlitzer at the fair, I was a tall and my head would get thrown backwards out of the car by the centrifugal force. If only Kiddy were as much fun. I circled another time, and plumped for the sports centre parking.

The sports centre was just like every other dreary, postwar, prefab, jerry built, barn in England with parking for 150 cars, on tarmac out front. Parking: 50p for 30 minutes, 90p for one hour, £1.30 for one and a half hours, and £1.50 for 2 hours.

I'd only met C. once before. She was a friend of D.'s a mate from work. I'd flirted with her at a club, when she'd been down visiting D. in the city. I smiled to myself as I fed the machine £1.30... give yourself an escape, smart move boy.

I put the ticket on the dash-board, no sticky smears on the windscreen thank you. There was a hazy heat from the sun today and I though about leaving the sun-roof open. But one look around at the chip papers and beer cans littering the floor and you could guess that the local scrotes weren't far away. The car had electric everything, and it still satisfied me that you had to strain to hear the whir of the electric motors close the windows and sun-roof.

I guess I was taking a long shot, by inviting her for a coffee on my way back to the city after a business trip. But, my moto has always been 'You've got to put yourself out-there'. I strode across town to the café on L. Street, where we'd agreed to meet. I walked past it on the opposite side of the road. She wasn't there so I took a detour past The Swan Centre. How many crappy developments can one town take? So I head back to café.

Normally I drink tea, but instead went for a foo-foo frothy coffee with chocolate on top. I sat down, and watched the traffic circle by. The foamy head on the coffee soon collapsing.

Some mate of D.'s called me to say he was passing through town, and would I like to meet for coffee. He said we'd met at a club in the city and that I'd given him my mobile number. Perhaps... I'd been on the Bacardi breezers that night, and had passed out on D.'s sofa with my contacts still in. The next morning, only after I'd had a couple mugs of strong coffee and calmed down, did I realised I hadn't lost them and still had them in. Remembering that episode made me laugh, so I'd agreed to meet him in the Coffee Pot. I was a regular there, so it felt safe. I lived within walking distance, but had to drive as I was running late.

I'd been slowly sipping my coffee when I noticed a moustache from my reflection in the window. As there were no napkins on the table I had to wipe the chocolatey mess from my upper lip with my clean handkerchief. A white volvo estate then pulled out of a space right out infront of the café. A good family car, but I drove a Saab and couldn't help but feel smug. A shitty old purple mini then took two attempts to park in the space left. I was grinning. Only when the girl driving got out, did I notice that it was C. She bounced into the café without even noticing me.

Thai was working at the Pot today - that's not her real name, but she's been to the Far East so many times that's what all her friends call her. She was first to notice a guy checking me out. I felt so embarrassed, I'd almost forgotten why I was there.

She was chatting with the hippy looking girl at the counter, turned around, looked at me, then blushed. Her body language was giving her away... easy!

'I saw you parking up, it's the mini right?' He said.

'Yeah... I've got parking karma'.