One day at the Supermarket

I could see several things as I waited in the parking lot.  She had gone in for a few things, leaving me to rotate between having the air on or the windows rolled down.

There was an old man leaning against his car, wearing Florida shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and tennis shoes.  He was twisting something around in the fingers of his right hand.  It was either an unlit cigarette or a tire gauge. I couldn’t be sure.

A rather large lady pulled into the spot next to me.  She was driving a very loud three-wheeled motorcycle.  It had all kinds of fancy things on it, and it seemed to breathe a sigh of relief the minute she climbed off.  As she walked into the market, I couldn’t help but think how fun it would be to ride a bike like that, zipping along an old country road.  Except for the occasional overwhelming smell of cows, what a hoot that would be.

Off to my right was an old man who should have turned in his driver’s license years ago.  He had spent the last several minutes attempting to back out of his parking spot, but various walkers and people cruising for an empty parking spot kept going right behind him, so he’d once again step on the brake, shift back into drive and pull a few inches forward, back to where he had been.  Then, he would again struggle to shift back into reverse, check his mirrors, turn his head to see if anyone was coming and he’d start the process all over again.  Nope – not yet.

Something caught my attention off to my left.  Flashing lights on the top of a rather large truck.  Okay, I see it is a tow truck, so that must have been a tire gauge and not a cigarette.  Yep, he’s headed over to the guy wearing shorts, who is now also waving his arms in the air to get the tow truck driver’s attention.

Apparently frustrated at taking so long to back out of his parking spot, the old man just went ahead and hit the gas.  His scruffy blue car lurched back just in time to crunch into the side of the passing tow truck.  I felt bad for the old man, who now slumped upon the steering wheel, I assume regretting his last decision to just go for it.   

I watched as a very unhappy driver of the tow vehicle walked around the to this side of his truck to better see what had happened.  Meanwhile, tire gauge guy had come trotting over to find out why the tow truck he had requested stopped two aisles away.  Both men were now standing at the driver’s window, presumably checking on the slumped-over driver.

A Supermarket kid, pushing a long line of carts towards the store, didn’t even glance at the activity as he passed.  His thoughts, I’m sure, were of his next days off.  The long line of carts brushing too close, knocked the tire gauge from the hand of shorts guy, who – I guess because of the noise of the passing carts and the distress he felt for slumped-over man, didn’t even notice when the gauge fell to the ground.

Also watching the activity was a seagull, perched atop the tall light pole.  His squawks went unnoticed by the now small crowd gathered at the crunch sight.  One lady, setting her groceries on the pavement, was now calling for an ambulance for slumped over man.  The tow driver had gotten the car door open and was kneeling, talking with the old man, who did not seem to respond.

Just for a moment, seeing the turmoil unfold before me, and hearing the background music of the squawking seagull, I imagined myself viewing all of this from the seats of the Old Globe Theatre.  A once plush and elegant building, whose days had long passed.  Today, the seats felt small and crammed together, reminding theatre goers that neither a well written play nor the skill of the actors would be good enough to distract from the greed of the theatre owner who had squeezed even more seats into each row.

I looked down at my gas guage and decided to shut the car off and instead roll down the windows.  This not only increased the volume of the seagull to me but let in a rush of hot air.  I had not realized it had gotten so warm out.  I could now hear the distant siren of the paramedics rushing to the aid of slumped over man.  How many lives, I wondered, had this old man’s decision affected?  The number seemed to be growing.

I watched as the seagull pushed off and flew across the parking lot.   I wondered – would the paramedics be in time?  Had the old man already passed away?  Maybe, just maybe that was the old man’s soul pushing off from the light pole, heading off to a better place.

Suddenly my wife was knocking on the car.  I could see her holding the brown shopping bags in my mirror, so I quickly popped the trunk.  I felt them as they almost imperceptibly changed the level of the car, and I remembered seeing the adjustment of the motorcycle when the rider got off.

As my wife clicked her seatbelt, I started the car.

“What’s going on over there?” she asked.

I double checked my mirrors and back-up camera.  “A seagull was just announcing a new arrival.  Put your window down, you might still be able to hear him.”

I could see her glance over to me. 

“You’re strange.”