Driving north on the busy boulevard (towards the green and blue buildings), I turned right into the parking lot behind the coffee shop. I didn't see that I had entered in the exit. The lot was full, cars were double-parked, and there was a line of cars waiting to get in. I was stuck with nowhere to go. I was pointed in the wrong direction, there wasn't enough room to move forward, and backing out would surely endanger my life. That seemed my only option, though: to risk my health and sanity by backing out onto the busy boulevard and praying that one of these L.A. drivers-not known for their kindness, mercy, or forgiveness-would be nice enough to let me out. Either that, or I could do what I did . . . I parked and I took my book into the coffee shop. I found a seat by the window, so that when someone needed to leave, I would just move my car a few feet out of the way. Then the next person in line would take the spot. This went on for two hours, until traffic died down enough so that I could get out of there without having to rely on the kindness of L.A. drivers . . . if that even exists.
viernes, octubre 10, 2014
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