A Parking Lesson
“Hey! Get out of there! Can’t you see me? I was here first!”
I yelled in rage and indignation in the privacy of my car. It made no difference of course. The driver slipped out of his car and sashayed past me, ignoring me completely. I was hardly going to confront a young ‘lad’ and explain that it was my car spot he’d just purloined. Instead, tight chested and red-faced though I was, I chose to forgive him. What a saint!
It took me ages to find another parking spot. It’s all a matter of luck. The mall was a popular place to be before Christmas.
The sounds of mounting anger confronted me as I entered the mall. There was a small crowd of curious shoppers gathering in front of the jewellery shop. A security officer bounded down the escalator beside me, two steps at a time, shouting into his walkie-talkie. The crowd parted for the security man. I caught a glimpse of the man who worked in the jewellery store holding a younger man tightly around the chest. A mess of watches had spilled onto the floor. I recognised the younger man. My parking punk.
“You can’t pin anything on me. I was just taking a look,” shouted the Punk.
“Explain how all these got into your pockets then!” rejoined the furious jewellery store manager.
The Punk sullenly did not reply. The security officer took control at this point and led the Punk off for further questioning. The crowd hissed softly as he was taken away.
I could have let it go at that and glowed in the fitting end for my thief but I decided to follow.
As he was being taken up the escalator I could hear the Punk complaining to the security officer.
“I don’t know how those things got in my pocket? I just wandered in for a look. I wanted something for my mum. Somebody must have put them in there. You’ve got to believe me,” he protested.
I could see that the security officer was interested.
“Did you see anybody behaving strangely in the jewellers? Did you talk to anyone?” he asked cautiously.
“Well, there were quite a few people in there. I didn’t talk to anyone. Santa was in there too. Talking to people and giving them presents,” he remembered.
The security officer pricked up his ears.
“Aha,” he exclaimed. “What else do you recall about Santa?”
“He was pretty clumsy. He knocked against me at one stage and didn’t even apologise. I thought he was drunk,” snorted the young man.
“I’ll need you to come up to the office to give me all the details but I think you’ve been a victim of the Karma Santa,” smiled the officer. “He keeps watch in the car park and when he sees any selfish behaviour out there he follows the perpetrator inside and plays a trick on them.”
The Punk looked sheepish.
I grinned to myself. The Punk had been taught a lesson after all.
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3 comments:
From Rick
Great minds think alike! What a funny story. I loved how the protaganist talks to herself about her wussiness and yet how the Christmas spirit is still so strong. And I loved the twist at the end. Karma Santa indeed.
I enjoyed the plot and loved the idea of "Karma Santa". The characterisations - of you, of the Parking Punk, of the jewelry store owner and of the security officer - were well-developed, logical and sympathetic.
But especially I loved your writing style (beautiful sentences) and choice of words ("purloined", "tight-chested and red-faced" etc etc).
It's a delight to read your stories.
Kerry. This is very clever and such a fabulously crafted story. Are you sure you don't plan it all out ahead of time!! I really enjoyed the angle that you chose - the story being about the offending driver. You have a wonderful knack of creating very powerful word pictures, I loved the crowd hissing. In trying to suggest improvements - the only thing I wonder is how you got so close to the conversation between the punk and the police officer. I think there may be a tendency to be coming from a different POV (point of view). Fabulous read. Thanks. Sue
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