So on our weekly car trip to Woolies this week, (which we like to make as swift as possible so that we don't turn into pumpkins from expelling too much carbon into the atmosphere, and from being turned into pulp by crazy Sydney drivers), we got stuck in a 40 minute traffic jam. A traffic jam, inside the shopping centre carpark, on a Saturday, at 5pm, in a shopping centre carpark (did I already mention that?).
Being stuck in a carpark in the eastern suburbs, with all the crazy drivers in that area is not really my idea of fun. More so when I am driving, and my husband is squirming in the passenger seat as he tries to zip his lips, to prevent them from spilling words such as "Brake!" and "What are you doing?" My usual response is a calm "Who's driving baby?" Really he means well, but unfortunately the helpful tit bits aren't falling on ears that want to listen, considering that those ears and attached body do the majority of the driving in this town.
Anyway, back to the 40 minute traffic jam, in the carpark. It was like everyone was playing mind games! I was doing my very best to be polite, but not let the entire world pull infront of me from the side parking areas. I felt like a ninja driving a car, gettig right up the bum of the P plater in front of me so that the BMW driver next to me that had cut off three people couldn't do the same to me. Excuse me for being an anti-BMW/Mercedes driver. But those dudes think they are totally entitled to cut people off, double park (and leave the car there blocking the road as they pick up their skinny, soy, weak, decaf latte), run red lights (I am not kidding), block intersections, and push in impolitely!
The P-plater in front of me had a car full of girls, they were all decked out in their emo gear, with their emo tunes, and their emo looks (full of disdain for the world). The only time I felt emo during the whole experience was when I started to get hunger pains, was distracted and yet another BMW cut me off forcing me to brake very swiftly.
The previously mentioned emo-driver was chain smoking, which is illegal inside fully enclosed car parks. My husband was glaring at her the whole time, thinking of all the possible outcomes of her smoking, well he didn't say anything but I know him well enough to know what was churning over in that brain of his. Like the fire sprinklers turning on, the alarms going off, us being evacuated on foot, having to leave the car, the old water in the sprinkler pipes damaging the paint on the car, the meat going off, the milk turning sour, not being able to enjoy a roast dinner with potato and gravy! See people just don't think of the consequences when they light up in a car park do they?! It could cause others to miss out on eating gravy! GRAVY! I saw his worried look, and said "Don't worry honey, we are not in as bad a position as the people in the back of her car (not smoking) who will soon pass out from fumes, and will likely sue her arse for giving them lung cancer.
The Honda behind me contained a single father with his young baby of about 6-9 months. The poor guy was alone in the car with the screaming child. He was jumping in and out of the drivers seat, grabbing various toys, bottles and pacifiers from the boot. None of them worked. Then all of a sudden I heard a beep, I was just about to yell a profanity at him, to inform him that I had 50,000 cars in front of me and couldn't accelerate, then I realised that he had the kid behind the wheel with him, and it was beeping the horn excitedly and giggling away. The car was stationary! So don't be concerned! Sure it wasn't the safest thing in the world, but you work with whatever you've got when you get are stuck in a 40 minute traffic jam with a baby.
We got excited when we were nearing our exit and the traffic seemed to be heading off in the direction of another exit, but then...our normal exit was blocked off by traffic barriers! Those barriers really broke our spirits.
My husband now began to squirm even more, he let out a peep saying "This is so frustrating! They should install speakers so that they can tell us what's going on, or put some dude there with the barriers to let people know what the F is going on!" My response was, "Can you get me a bannana from the boot? I am hungry". His response was *glare*. (Hey, I was hungry, my clutch foot was falling asleep and I was trying to stay positive, I figured that the bananna might help me do that.)
After about 35 minutes we seemed to be nearing what appeared to be an alternate exit, but not before I got nearly ram raided by a crazy Mazda driver. At the 40 munite mark, when we finally exited it was pitch black, it was well and truly daylight when we had arrived.
I don't think that I could handle doing that again, being trapped in a small space with so many crazy eastern suburb drivers, they are scary scary people!