Student Parking Lot

 

From the outside looking in, the student parking lot of Princess Margaret Secondary School looks like a jumbled and upsetting clump of pedestrians, automobiles, and senior students. But, a better way to describe it is organized chaos, much like my grade twelve year in high school. The glorious and monumental moment when I got my eager hands on my well deserved driver’s license, changed my life. This is one of the defining moments in my brief existence, more responsibility, more privileges, and more excitement. The moment every youngster fantasizes about. Pulling into the demented disorder of the student parking lot for the first time was over whelming and soon I find myself beaming with superiority and delight. My music thumping, my sharpest pair of sunglasses on, and the burning green-eyed monster stares from my junior peers, who still long for the day that they can smoothly peel into the student parking lot. During class the vehicles in the parking lot sit calm and serene, while their drivers endure lifeless lessons and dull colorless assignments. At 12:51, when the dazzling noise of the bell floods the vacant hallways, the parking lot comes back to life. The sea of students striding across the poorly paved lot, bellies grumbling for some satisfying snacks to help them make it through the final grueling hours of the day. The fortunate few with cars hustle out of the parking lot, avoiding the meager traffic jam that occurs every lunch, soon to return with without hunger. At 1:33 precisely the sickening sound of the bell interrupts the students lunch time shenanigans, and the parking lot is back to its calm and serene state. The wind whistles through the hollow aisles between the cars and the dry dust waltz's along the tar dance floor. It doesn't stay this way for long. Soon the chaos of the student parking lot will multiply with the addition of: impatient parents, larger than life school buses, slow-paced pedestrians, exhausted staff, and all six hundred Princess Margaret students. The complete disorder of the parking lot at the end of a lengthy and mundane day trapped at school seems almost refreshing. Trying to escape the parking lot at the peak of rush hour is like grade twelve; I just can't wait to get out of there, but I know that on some level, I'm going to miss it.