Slice of Life 2023: 27 of 31- Extra grateful for food, warmth, and company

  It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

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Clare, Larkin, and I are all slicing this month. In the past, Larkin and I have had a few giggles when we both write about the same event but with our own interpretations of it. Somehow, this month has almost slipped by without any of the dual perspectives posts. 

Despite the long walk, the threat of rain, and the chill in our bones, the three of us had some good laughs as we headed toward the parking garage. My fingers wrapped around the parking ticket every so often, making sure it was still there in my pocket, available to remind us of the address (which we were likely to need in this unfamiliar city on this dark night in streets that seemed far too full of parking garages) and also to get put into the machines we'd checked out earlier in the night and pay too much money for a few hours of parking. 

"To be honest," Clare said, "I'm still super hungry." Dinner had been tapas a couple of hours ago. "Those plates didn't get down to my end of the table."

We stopped and placed probably the final order of the night at a Chipotle placed conveniently on our walking route. If the server could have moved more slowly to get Clare her rice bowl, I'm not sure how. Julia and I seized the opportunity to watch the UConn men's team widen their lead on the way to the Final Four. At least they were having a great night. 

Chipotle goods in hand, we continued to the garage, only to find that we were three of MANY who were also on their way to the same garage, forming a winding line that we couldn't find the end of in order to use the automated machines and pay for their parking. 

"I can't feel my legs," Julia said. She was wearing jeans with large holes, and we'd been outside for a while. The walking tour we'd been on (an R-rated historical tour of Philadelphia) had involved WAY more standing around than walking, and, even though we'd cut our losses and ducked out early, we'd had plenty of time to get cold. 

We made the seemingly wise decision to forego the line for a while and find a bar to watch the rest of at least the first half. Isn't is amazing how bars are EVERYWHERE until you're looking for one? The only one we found was loud and crowded. We could watch the game (not listen to it) from a dance floor that wasn't yet dancing. There were not tables or seats. Clare's Chipotle bag was even more tempting than it had been as we were walking in the streets, but we were pretty sure the bouncers and security people would be right over to confiscate any chips that might appear. 

Finally, we agreed enough time had passed to revisit the paying machines. Perhaps more seasoned garage parkers would have known that even though the lines at the machines were gone, there was still a lengthy wait to get out of that garage. At least the Chipotle goods were available and accessible!

The girls were pretty sure I should go right when we were almost out. Until the car in front of us went right, faced a blaring horn, and backed up almost into us since it was a one-way street. I was too stunned to even beep as I backed up in order to preserve my bumper. The person I slipped in front of to get out (okay, maybe even cut off a little) did not have the same horn avoidance, and he continued to blaringly let us know how perturbed he was that I was in front of him as we headed out of the city via crowded one-way streets as quickly as possible. 

We were happy to get back to the hotel for the second very successful half of basketball on a television with volume in beds with warm covers--- and in a room full of great company! 

You can read Clare's rendition of the night here! 

All good things,