Tiny Car-Park: Christchurch HospitalAt the hospital today was further proof that I am on the slippery slope to middle age. I indulged in the truly middle aged pass-time of arguing over parking spaces.
At Christchurch hospital, the car park is miniscule and has about 30 spaces. Visitors queue for a space and usually wait about 10 minutes, unless people jump the queue and drive the wrong way around the one way system to nab the space, or push in. Its quite a stressful wait.
One such person pushed in in front of me with his red Mazda sports car. I jumped out of my seat and said "do you know there is a queue?"
"I've never been here before"
"Are you going to go to the back of the queue?"
"No, you don't know what I'm f*cking doing here"
"What are you doing"
"minding my own f*cking business"
This carried on for a while so I called him inconsiderate and rude before returning to my car sanctimoniously, feeling quietly satisfied that I had upheld my honour. I'm not too bothered at having people swearing at me. It's basically what I do for a living.
Further evidence that I am turning middle aged is that I have found it necessary to spell fuck as f*ck in case any other middle aged people are offended.
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