I know that just a couple weeks ago I vowed never to lose my van in a parking ramp again, but I have this chronic tendency to go here and there consumed in multiple thought processes, and apparently my previous twenty minutes of parking ramp wandering and frost bit toes were not enough to cure me.
Yesterday, after visiting a hospitalized friend, I entered the elevator of the parking ramp nearest Mayo's comprehensive mental health facility and stood between two individuals a moment before exclaiming animatedly, "OH, NO! I've done it again! I don't remember where I parked!"
The man to my left cautiously glanced at me and pressed 2.
"I think I'll give 2 a try as well," I declared.
Hardly aware of my small audience, began to chatter, "I don't recall driving too far into this ramp...Oh my gosh! I can't BELIEVE it. I am ALWAYS losing my van!"
The lady to my right was giggling quietly as the man and I stepped out of the elevator. I knew that she too must be an occasional parking ramp wanderer. "Good luck!" encouraged my vehicle-losing sister from the elevator as the doors closed.
I was right on the man's heels as he entered the ramp. I was astonishingly unaware of my close proximity to him as I launched into the story of my most recent parking ramp wandering experience. The cold air and speed of my thoughts sent the story racing from my mouth with such charisma that my hands and arms felt the need to join in to punctuate the words, and I was walking so closely to him that I once even brushed against his right arm.
Finally I became aware that the old guy was glancing fearfully at me out of the corner of his eye, that he was trying to create space between us. When I accidentally brushed his arm, his head snapped to the right as he gave me a startled look and then with wide eyes he scanned the scene before him as he increased his pace.
I then realized that the guy was afraid of me for some mysterious reason.
Puzzled, I took a split second to assess the man's experience, all the while prattling on about my last parking ramp van search. I had a fairly significantly-sized bag slung over my shoulder along with my purse, and we were, after all, walking together through the ramp nearest the psych ward.
"Oh! This man must think I'm truly out of my mind!"
Perhaps this realization should have humbled me to silence, but it didn't. I cheerfully concluded the story and wished him a lovely evening as I opened the passenger-side door to my van and slung my cargo inside. He was clearly relieved. I was quietly amused.
I'm just glad my van was indeed parked on Level 2, because I'm pretty sure that the rattled old man, once safely locked inside his vehicle, would have called security on this crazy parking ramp wanderer.
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