When I pulled up to my building, every single parking spot was taken. There is a secondary lot behind the building, but given this particular buildings placement, you have to drive back out onto the street and enter the back from a separate road. And truth be told, I did not know where this road was. I himmed and hawed but ultimately decided that the best course of action was to park across the street, at the gym. I used to go to this gym to do zumba so I thought "no harm, no foul."
In the car, I gathered up my computer bag and purse, water bottle and a box of diapers that I needed for my meeting. I wedged my umbrella into the crook of my elbow and started off across the parking lot. Now the rain was annoying. I was wearing the wrong shoes. I get to the edge of the road, start to monitor the traffic and get distracted by the sound of a long, low whistle behind me. I turn, to find a somewhat straggly man hanging out the window of his pick-up truck, smoking a cigarette. "You don't want to park there, sweetie. They'll tow you," he tells me. "Really?" I say, to which he gives me a very long-winded response that I only half listen to because I'm standing in the rain, in my crappy flats, with a box of diapers and an umbrella. "Okay, thanks. I'll just drop this stuff off and come back to move the car," I say. I cross the street, and vaguely hear him telling me to park one of my damn co-workers in.
When I get inside the building I find that my meeting has been moved due to a Christmas party. I go to the original meeting room, tell those there that they need to move to another room, just down the hall, and then announce to the group that I need to move my car. I ask the man at the front, Bob, how to get to the back of the building and then set back off, into the rain. I pass the smoking man (who waves) slide into my front seat and follow the directions to the back of the building. Then, I get out and make my way to the door.
Lo and behold, the door in the back is badge access only. My badge is in my computer bag, inside the building, along with my cell phone. There is no call box and there is also no easy way to get to the front. So, I put my umbrella back up, and walk the entire way around the building in my crappy Target flats. I walk through a small construction site, get yelled at by a man driving a back-hoe, walk along the busy road in the wet grass, among empty Miller Lite bottles and miscellaneous garbage, and pass the smoking man for the last time, who yells out that my A-S-S looks good in my jeans.
I get back into the building. I am late to my meeting and now I am sweating. The meeting is long and mediocre and I end it early, feeling frustrated and kind of stupid. Then I zone out and eat my lunch comprised of a single taco, pickled egg, clementine and square of chocolate, that I never refrigerated on account of running so late. The final stage of this long, rainy, pathetic story is this selfie that I took in my car when it was finally time to leave.
Have you ever had a day like this? Do I even really need to ask? The truth of the matter, of course, is that all of these things are first world problems that mean nothing today and will make me laugh tomorrow. But I'm still glad that it's the end of the week. And that a man chain smoking in the rain thinks I have a nice ass.