All I wanted was a shawl.
The moment I laid my eyes on the fluffy blanket of warmth, I knew it had to be mine. I decided to go to the mall and buy it. It was the day after Black Friday so I figured the crowd wouldn’t be too bad.
I was wrong. Why did it become a Spartan rite-of-passage test?
The feeling of dread came over me when I saw that every parking spot was taken. I don’t like circling around the parking lot! I become a crazed stalker and I followed someone to their car, only to realize they were just sitting inside. S-i-t-t-i-n-g i-n-s-i-d-e. I would wait there in the hope that they would move. I’d put my blinker on to let the other cars know that this spot was mine and ain’t nobody gonna touch it!
After one minute, I saw cars come into the parking lot and find spaces really fast; that aggravated me. Three minutes went by and I realized that this person wasn’t going anywhere. I decided to drive off. The moment I go, the car I waited for left and someone came and grabbed the spot! This was when I screamed and realized that this just got serious.
There was no way I was going to drive back home. It took me 10 minutes to get to the mall. A normal person would leave, but my pride got me. I wanted that shawl.
I spotted an empty space in the next row and rushed to claim it, but since I had to go around, there were pedestrians in the way. Everyone chose that specific time to cross the road. There were so many people I thought I was in Times Square. Of course when I got around, the parking spot was taken.
At that moment, my chest heaved with sorrow. I felt that if I passed this test, I would be a warrior. Did those Spartan teenagers give up so easily when they were thrown in the forest to survive with nothing but a knife? Most were probably killed, but the strong made it through. This was for my shawl. This…was for Sparta!
After five more minutes stalking, missing and growling, I saw a lady jump into her car and I happened to be driving toward her spot. The blinker went on to claim the space and when I saw those beautiful, white reverse lights come on, I immediately tuned my Pandora to the soundtrack of “300” and cried out in victory as I drove in and shifted to park.
I ran in the store, grabbed the shawl of my choice and beelined it to the register with the smallest line. I ran out of there with my shopping bag in the air and gave a battle cry. I made it out alive; I was officially a Spartan with a shawl.
