Carpe Diem in the Parking Lot

The bright red pickup sat defiantly in the handicapped parking spot in front of the market. There was no handicapped tag hanging from the mirror, no sign on the dash and no special license plate. I usually walk by muttering about how people are so selfish and entitled these days- but I do nothing. I’m sure these offenders justify their behavior by saying to themselves-  “I’ll only be a minute”. 

This time I couldn’t take it. I had to stop and do something. Seize the day- in the parking lot. I walked over to this huge vehicle. It was pretty new and well cared for. The owner was clearly not driving around in the woods with it. He just wanted to show off his big red pickup. 

The cargo area had a large tarp over what appeared to be a few boxes of varied size and shape. There was also the head of some kind of statue protruding. That seemed strange. The pickup cab had double doors and a bench in the back. I saw a couple of empty beer cans on the floor behind the front seat. I bet he was stocking up now for a big party weekend. 

I contacted the local police on my cell. You’d be surprised how little they care about parking issues. I reminded them that little crimes become big ones if all laws are not enforced. This was a giant pickup with a huge first step that only an athlete could manage easily- certainly not a handicapped person. Finally they agreed to send a patrol car to investigate. 

It took ten minutes and I was becoming annoyed that the criminal would escape if they didn’t hurry. The young officer, maybe 25, arrived and I identified myself as the good citizen who reported this crime. The young officer called in the plate numbers. I secretly hoped this was a pickup involved in a drug cartel or perhaps it had been seen recently at a bank robbery. If I was lucky, I might be on the evening news. After a couple of minutes- the officer turned to me and said “No warrants. No priors”. 

Seeing the disappointment in my face the young officer assured me ”There will be a big fine plus several hundred dollars for the towing and storage. He might even do some jail time if he misses his court date”. I said “Great! Crime doesn’t pay”. 

As I began to enjoy the outcome of my efforts, I heard a wispy low voice behind me, “What’s going on here”. The frail old man escorted by a much younger man slowly approached the pickup. I backed away into the small crowd of curious shoppers. The  old man was leaning on his shopping cart and using it as a walker. Three bags of groceries sat in the cart. A younger man, maybe 30, had his hand on the cart to make sure it maintained its course.

The officer listened to the tale- the old man was being moved to an assisted living facility by his grandson. The tarp was removed from the grandson’s pickup cargo bed to show several boxes of cloths, a few pictures of family, kitchen dishes and a few wilted indoor plants. The statue was a treasured religious figure that will adorn his small porch. As the grandson and officer slowly helped the old man into the passenger seat I stood silently, watching and learning. 

This person’s life was reduced to a few boxes and the kindness and patience of a loving grandson. I decided I did not want to continue on into the store to purchase my several steaks, gourmet vegetables and Nioxin1 organic shampoo. Not today. It was a time to reflect. The plan changed. The day had seized me.