"I cannot tell if what the world considers 'happiness' is happiness or not. All I know is that when I consider the way they go about attaining it, I see them carried away, headlong, grim, and obsessive, in the general onrush of the human herd, unable to stop themselves or to change their direction. All the while they claim to be just on the point of attaining happiness. My opinion is that you never find happiness until you stop looking for it."
- Chuang Tzu
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| Imagine the text being all lowercase and in cursive. Attempted recreation with Dall·e AI that went awry. |
I open the drivers side door and step out of my car onto the newly frozen ice that stretches across the vast parking lot like the frozen tundra of the Arctic. The air is crisp. Dripping snot instantly freezes on your upper lip. Deep breath in - the cold air burns your lungs. Above this modern tundra there's a highway overpass that is slowly roaring to life with cars starting to zoom by as the sun rises in the distance to greet us and warm the frigid landscape - much like lions roaring to the sunrise in the African savanna.
A mustard yellow 1972 Chevy LUV parks next to me and out steps a gentleman with matching yellow socks, a yellow trench coat, and a yellow Dick Tracy style hat. Feeling like I've suddenly been teleported into a cartoon parallel universe I ask him if he knows if we have to pay for parking here? He doesn't answer my question and responds with a question of his own:
First time here, eh?
Yes it is, I reply.
Well you're in for a wild ride then!
I think so as I nod my head in agreement while staring at the comic book character.
Yeah, you have to pay for parking by the entrance.
So we walk all the way to the entrance, pay for parking, then walk back to our cars to put the ticket in the car, then walk back to the entrance?
Yup, you got it!
Alrighty then I mutter as I accidentally slam the car door shut - spooking some icicles off the overpass.
It's too early for these types of annoying shenanigans that society imposes on us that really don't make any sense at all when you think about them. After paying for parking, putting the ticket in my car, then walking the marathon distance back to the entrance of the building I get in line amongst many notable characters. I ponder if we're supposed to dress up as I appear to be the only one wearing normal clothes. Perhaps I missed the memo on their website. I make a mental note that maybe I should pick up a flannel shirt for this type of occasion so I can appear dressed up in this type of setting but still blend in amongst more normal spots.
The line moves quickly and their prohibited items sign very specifically calls out "No Mushrooms" which is intriguing. Good thing I don't need to worry about that. It is the first time I've ever seen mushrooms specifically called out on a not allowed sign. What would happen if someone showed up with a lunchbox full of portabellas for a tasty lunch? I'm pretty sure I'm in for a very interesting day. I'm glad I decided to have coffee this morning flashes through my mind.
