Parking is such sweet sorrow

I was not going to post tonight. I was going to take the day off, and try to get to an every-other day posting rhythm. But an event tonight spurred my desire to post, coupled with me failing to recognize yesterday as 05-06-07 (which I didn't realize/remember until like 10:30 last night)... et voila... (Jarret, you best be proud of me: I could've--and probably should've--been meaner than I was...)

Post-practice tonight, a small group of swimmers (just 4 of us; the rest bailed, including an invited non-swimmer/soon-to-be-Boca resident) went to have dinner at Zona Fresca--a nearby burrito place. After eating, it dwindled down so that just Meredith (one of our Masters coaches) and I were the last 2 to leave (not long after #3 left).

As we were going into the parking lot and walking to our cars, we were continuing our conversation that started at the table. And by the time we'd reached our cars, we'd not finished, so we were hanging out by them, chatting.

That was, until about a minute later, when some woman (possibly with a Jersey accent), called out from her rolled-down window telling us to leave. She was "late meeting her friends inside" and needed a place to park. "Parting is such sweet sorrow and all", she said, and "that's what your cell phones are for."

Now, I don't really have a problem with trying to get out of parking spaces to free them up. I do, however, have a problem with being forced/coerced out--Jarret a few months ago even called me mean for purposely sitting in my car and waiting out someone who started waiting for my space before I'd even gotten to the door of my car (it worked too--but I'm on a 12-step recovery program now, and trying to behave better :).

This woman just irked me. What I really wanted to do was just stay there. I wanted to responded back with "well maybe you shouldn't be late", "there are other places to park", "so I shall say good night until the morrow", and "I don't want to finish this on the phone." But did I? No. I stalled a bit, and left, quietly--but not without some aghast leers in the woman's direction. I was even tempted on the way home to return to Fresca and hover over the woman's table, telling her I was waiting for her to leave so I could sit where she was. But didn't.

And making it worse, Meredith called to finish the discussion on the way home--living up to the pushy woman's demand!

At least the people who hopped onto our table when we got up there didn't push us out (and they were actually happy that we were leaving and thanked us for freeing up the table--most nice of them). This is just another reason why I don't feel I'm living in the South anymore: this scene would not have played out like this if it were. The woman may have asked if we were leaving, but would have asked, not told. Not ordered us to go.

But another plus: it caused me to review Act 2, Scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet, where today's subject comes from, and remember it's also where "...what light through yonder window breaks?" and "O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo" can be found. And of course... "anon" ;-) (I had wanted to describe it as "chalk-full" but apparently it's "chock full"; but it's also not a very accurate way to describe the scene.)

Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow