The town Green is colorfully decorated, the sounds of sweet seasonal music echo from shops and restaurants, and the energy of hurrying, mission motivated people is everywhere.
On Christmas Eve fire trucks make neighborhood rounds with sirens blaring. Santa is stationed on top, ho ho hoeing while tossing colorfully wrapped holiday candy to onlooking children.
But what I really love is the welcoming white puffy bags tied around each meter saying “Seasons Greetings. Free Parking. Two Hour Limit”. Saving a quarter never feels as good as the gift of free parking in a busy town.
The week before Christmas, as I drive down Speedwell Avenue expecting to go around the corner to the public parking lot I couldn’t believe my eyes or my good fortune. In front of Century 21, right before me, was a car pulling out of a spectacular parking space. It pulled out of the spot, I pulled in, and joyfully jogged into the store. Knowing exactly what I needed, I chose my merchandise and just a few little extra treats, and exited toward my perfect parking spot.
But as I approached it I saw a truck the size of a supine Empire State Building, double parked alongside my car. I signaled the man in the truck’s passenger seat that he was blocking my car and I wanted to leave.
He made the signal for “He’ll be back in a few seconds”: the thumb and index finger indicating a small amount of time. Evidently the man in the passenger seat couldn’t speak English and couldn’t drive the truck.
Squeezing between the truck and my car, I opened the door and sat inside awaiting the promised instantaneous return of the driver. While waiting I checked home messages on my cell phone, crossed items off my “to do” list, and then, and then … hey: where is this driver???? It’s been 20 minutes of confinement in my perfect parking space prison.
That was when I called the Morristown Police. The officer took the information about my incompliant incarceration and dispatched a patrol car. It couldn’t have been more than sixteen seconds after my call that I saw flashing lights and black shiny boots walking toward the truck. He spoke to the man in the passenger side and than walked to my car, which was immobilized behind the behemoth vehicle.
“How long have you been stuck here?” he asked. I told him. He said, “I’m going to give him a ticket and call a towing service to get him off the street.” He walked back to the truck, climbed in, and drove several lengths forward, enabling me to move my car back onto the street.
I was free again! Free to move around, free to drive.
Suddenly I know the exhilarating feeling the early settlers had when they saw the flag waving, bugle blowing cavalry riding across the plains to their rescue!
Thank you, Morristown Police Department for freeing me.
And to all, have a beautiful, healthy, and fun-filled 2012.
On the anniversary of one year WordPress I resubmit my first blog.