Look At Him Run

They call him the Parking Lot Nazi. He is the security guy at the high school where my daughter is a senior. Let me tell you that fella can run despite his slight and unobtrusive appearance. Once he's on to you, he’s like a hound dog with a bone, he just will not let it go.

Turns out fascism can be quite effective. Isn’t that the only positive remnant from the Hitler era, that the trains were always on time? That philosophy can be a good thing when trying to keep the traffic moving, deter truancy and prevent drug deals in the high school parking lot.

This morning my daughter called me shortly after leaving for school to say she forgot to get a check for her AP exam and it was due today. We agree to rendezvous at a certain place in the parking lot where she can run out to get it from me. So, I  schedule  the rest of my morning around that plan. I got busy with my list at home knowing I’ll leave by 11 a.m. to meet her during her lunch.

Shortly after getting out of the shower, she texts me:

The Hurricane:  Can you bring the check at 10 instead so I won’t be late for my editor’s meeting?
The Mayor: I can try to get there by then but I just got out of the shower.
The Hurricane: Please??
The Mayor:  Exactly where should I come? I’ll just dry my hair or it will get beyond redemption. I can come back home and get ready for my afternoon appointment.
The Hurricane: Come in the back entrance, by the football field to the last set of glass doors.

Feeling a little annoyed as I speed dried my hair, I thought to myself; it’s a check for her AP exam...she didn’t just forget her lunch money. AP credit equals money savings in college tuition next year...so  I need to get this sucker there on time. I look at my watch, 8 minutes. I slip on some flip flops, grab my checkbook, jump in the car and I’m on a mission to get there.

Going to need something a little faster for this trip

Despite getting stuck behind a delivery truck, I make a right turn without slowing down into the lot. I remember thinking, look at that jogger stretching out his calve against that pole (even though he wasn’t dressed in athletic clothing), I hope I didn’t startle him.

Following my daughter's instructions I pull around the back, texting my darling girl the eagle has landed. The phone rings, it’s her: “you’re at the wrong set of doors, come further down and hurry. Here comes Mac to get on my case.” I quickly pull down to her for the hand off. I peered down at the parking lot and saw the man I thought was a jogger intently heading our way. I’m scratching out the check as fast as I can because I have no intention of being interrogated by the Parking Lot Nazi while in my pajamas.

I’ve had an unpleasant run in with him this year when dropping off my kid after a dentist appointment, back in November. I had driven in (per her instructions) to the door closest to her locker, which meant I drove in the lane to the right instead of to the left in the lane he wanted me. He actually screamed, “no, this way, this way!!!” as I exited the lot. In my rear view mirror his face went from red to almost purple and there might have been steam coming off of his head. Keep in mind school had started an hour earlier,I was the only car driving in the lot at that point.

The Hurricane took off sprinting back into the building and I decided to out maneuver Mac by dashing down a row of cars to drive out on the outer ring road. I kept my focus, not looking for him, 2 more rows to the exit when he burst from behind a Ford Bronco and practically threw himself in front of my car all of Jack Nicholson like.

Heeerre's Johnny

I swore to myself as he made his sweaty way around the front of my car to the driver's side window, keeping a palm on my car hood the whole way. Busted. I had left the house hastily without my wallet so no ID if needed.

Mac: You look a little lost.

The Mayor: No, this look is me, in my PAJAMAS trying to avoid talking to anyone while I dropped off a check to my daughter.

Then he said something I just couldn't believe.

Mac: Putting his hand up by his eyes and averting his gaze. He chuckled and said, “ I guess I’ll let you be on your way then.”

Turns out old Mac didn't want to talk to me in my pajamas either. Could it be that retired Navy Seal MacIntosh was pajama-phobic ?

That wasn’t anywhere near the tongue lashing I was expecting. I was all worked up over nothing. I’ve got to give the man his dues, especially after his mad dash and dive. Lucky for me it, seems he his extreme attention to duty was completely over ridden by his desire not to talk to ladies in their pajamas.

When the Hurricane got out of school she called. I told her what happened and she laughed, "I should have warned you, no one can out run Mac."