The Parking Lot

You know, everyone’s counting steps these days. Whether walking the dog, jogging the neighborhood, or taking a leisurely stroll. People are always saying, “I need to get my steps in.” The sporting goods industry must be doing well based on all the exercise suits and high end sneakers that I see people wearing in the neighborhood. To count these steps, they rely on their phones, their watches, their Fitbits, or just a good old pedometer.

Now none of this bothered me. In fact, I am known to look at the health app on my iPhone more than I care to admit. Of course, the information you get from these apps is only as good as the information you put into these apps. I look really healthy for a guy who weighs 150 pounds and is 40 years old. Of which I am neither.

Now I said this doesn’t bother me, but it’s starting to. You see, it was recommended to me that when I go to the store, I should park in the furthest parking spots so I can get my steps in. The disturbing trend is that there are no parking spaces at the farthest reaches of the parking lots anymore. They are all being taken up by people wearing Adidas tracksuits and Hoka running shoes. All of them are paying so much attention to their watches and phones that they almost get hit by the guy speeding his Tesla towards the one open charging station.

Another disturbing trend related to this walking fetish is that the designated handicap spaces closest to the store are mostly empty – sometimes the only empty spots in the whole parking lot. It seems that people who parked in those spots before are now parking further away to improve their health and disabling condition. Given what I’ve noticed of this trend, I don’t know whether to be happy for them getting some exercise or scared for them risking the Tesla Speedway.

I guess I don’t mind parking in closer spaces. Today’s stores are so big that after wandering aimlessly looking for the bathroom for 30 minutes, then wandering aimlessly looking for the 100-roll pack of toilet tissue, and then waiting in line scrunched between two people wearing orthopedic walking shoes and terry cloth sweatpants and a hoodie, I am ready for the short walk back to my car.