There was always one space.
There was always one space that I preferred most, one space where I knew that my safety and security would be assured. It wasn’t in a church, and it wasn’t in a hospital. It was in a certain parking space locate beside the Good And Right, which was a store that I often frequented.
Sometimes I would go there, just so I could park in this space, right under the window; and crank up the air conditioning, while listening to old tunes from days gone by. Bing Crosby was my favorite, as was Elton John, and Tom Petty. These men made interesting music, even though each had a very different take on what music should be in their eyes.
The police thought that I was just a junkie or something, that I was just wasted and far much too gone to be able to comprehend reality. They would approach me in their cruisers, sometimes daily, to make sure that I was abiding the law. I couldn’t think of any reason to break it, and if one would observe the consequences, then one would surely realize that breaking the law meant confinement in a place which is far removed from safety.
A place that would be far removed from my space...my parking space.
To others, number 19 on the grid was just another parking space. It was just a residence for one’s car, so that they didn’t have to drive into the door with it, or so that they wouldn’t have to turn it off in the middle of the road, or on someone’s freshly manicured lawn.
But I didn’t see it that way. Not now, not ever. This was the space that my mother had preferred in her days, and it is the place that I have been conditioned to prefer as well, so it seems. Every time that I put on the parking break, I tend to feel a sort of orgasmic sensation, like I had in a sense, been entering into the core of a beautiful woman with my metallic vehicle. A beautiful woman who would allow me to stay in her care, and under her watch, until I chose to leave.
I always left before the store closed at 9:00 promptly, or when my car would begin to run out of gas. I couldn’t stay longer than business hours, because then I’d be most surely trespassing. In the other case of my car running out of gas, I absolutely despised it; but I would have to drive all of the way to the gas station just to fill up my tank. It was revolting!
Slowly but surely, I had annihilated almost all of the people in my life. I’d had friends in high school, and friends in college, and friends at work...but once they saw what I loved to do for a bit of enjoyment, they thought I was some kind of a loon. Perhaps I was this loon, but it only made me take a firmer stand in my decision to continue to go to that loving woman who would watch over me, that beautiful parking space, number 19.
Eventually, I had befriended a woman. This was shocking at first, since I thought that no woman would ever take her place - The place of number 19. Yet I’d said the vows and devoted myself to this woman, this lovely Sheila Frensch; who was as beautiful and loving a woman as my space was.
I’m sure one would think that I am quite mad, or possibly insane to think of these things, these material possessions; in such a loving and intimate way, but I have heard of others who adore structures and machines, and wish also to be with them until their dying days. So, if am truly am a madman; then I know for certain that I am not alone in my madness, and I feel relieved in that fact.
I took Sheila by the hand one day, and decided to show her exactly where I’ve been the past few days, and why I haven’t spent much time with her. She obliged to sit happily in the passenger seat with me, as we drove to the parking lots of the Good And Right.
She asked me where we were going, and I told her that we were indeed going to the Good and Right, which had lots of bargains of which she was looking into. Immediately, I was berated with a laundry list full of things that she needed that I didn’t know that humans actually required in their day to day lives.
However, I assured her that we were not going to actually go into the store. I rarely went into any store, because there were not too many things that I felt I needed. I always felt that a man should live simple; nevertheless this woman wants to live a meaningless life of complexity, and I guess I will just have to deal with that until I am dead. Well, at least I still have my beloved...Number 19.
My heart stopped., and my eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.
There was a sign in front of the store, saying:
"PARKING SPACES ARE BEING RENOVATED, AS PART OF OUR REMODELING PROGRAM HERE AT GOOD AND RIGHT. WE HOPE THAT YOU WILL CONTINUE SHOPPING WITH US, WHERE EVERYTHING IS GOOD AND RIGHT."
Sheila asked me what was wrong, but I could only put my head in my hands and sigh. "She was everything to me." I told her. It was like I had lost my mother, but she had already been dead for many years now. No, this was much more terrible. They did it... I couldn’t believe that anyone could do such a thing.
THEY KILLED MY PRECIOUS NUMBER 19!
Sheila became angry. She hollered and threw things at me. She told me that she thought I was some kind of psycho. I still believed that it was a possibility, so I didn’t deny it.
I couldn’t deny it...AND I WOULDN’T DENY IT ANYMORE!
I was completely nuts, in every sense of the word - I was a loony - a total fucking weirdo!
There was no place for me in this world anymore. There’s no place for crazies like me in civil society with it’s love of death and war, and it’s thirst for violence and bloodshed - It’s hatred of all things that are different, and it’s only embrace towards similarity.
I picked up my head. Sheila was still screaming at me, but I didn’t care about that stupid bitch anymore. Why did I even marry her? Was it all just a matter of convenience?
Was I only trying to fit into the puzzle of normalcy with misshapen edges?
That’s right. I was only doing these things to make myself appear normal. But, I wasn’t normal, and I'd never be. God knew it, and so did I.
I've had enough - I’m sick of this shit! I’m so damned sick of it, that I could scream myself to the point of fainting. It’s time to end this horror, this charade of idiocy that I have been playing in for so long.
They’ve destroyed my only place of security - The remains of number 19 have been washed over with smaller, more claustrophobic parking spaces which offer no sign of safety. I should’ve known all along. Goddamn it, why didn’t this make sense to me before? It’s ringing like a bell that I could never hear before...
The store was once a simple mom and pop shop, before it became this great corporate monster. There was an air of energy, of tranquility, of the simple fellow wanting to help out his fellow man by offering the few things that he needed for a reasonable price. There were more trees then, too. There was more solace in parking, and in smoking a cigarette with the windows rolled down while the music plays. The air itself even smelled sweeter in those days...
But, those days are all gone...and they've been replaced with capitalist "free-markets", and a complete influx of products that a man would never know that he needed at all. They ruined my space. They ruined my safety...
IT’S THEIR FUCKING FAULT!
I pushed hard on the gas. Sheila started screaming bloody murder, and was begging me to let her out of the car. But, not even that mattered to me anymore... Nothing did!
Can’t you see that Sheila, you bitch!? Or are you too blind by your shopping list, your makeup, and your expensive tastes in clothing?!" I hollered at her now frozen expression.
"I was never good enough for you, and I’ll never be good enough for this world!" I thundered, ramming the steering wheel with my fist. " The only being that ever will be good enough for this new atrocity, is the machine. This is no longer a man’s world, and I refuse to live in it any longer.
As the car sped faster and faster towards the store, I could only think of the memories of what my mother said to me. "You’ll be safe right here." She said. "There’s no harm that’ll come to you, as long as you stay right in here, son."
I’ve never forgotten those words.
But... What about now, mother? What can you tell me...now that there is no safe place to hide until you get back?
That’s right. You’re never coming back.
Don’t worry, mother. I’m coming to join you!
She screamed and pounded on the doors with a fervor, but they would not give way. I would not let them. I felt that she should go face first into her punishment! She might even survive, and possibly even learn something from all of this.
All my cares seemed to fade away, as we both sped closer and closer to the right wall of the store. At the climax, my eyes saw death; and her screaming faded from my ears forever.
At least now, there would be peace...and safety. They say that one finds those things in death, and I hoped that they were right...I truly hoped with all of my being, that they were right.