Ever wonder why big event venues have
people to direct traffic in the parking lots? Because as drivers left
to our own devices, we're stupid.
When allowed to make decisions about
parking in a huge lot (unmarked, specifically, but it doesn't matter
much), we are incapable of making rational decisions. It's total
chaos. A breakdown of the moral fiber of society, a four-wheeler
free-for-all, a motorized melee, a scrum of sedans.
In other words, the parking lots at the
Iowa State Fair the day before the fair begins.
In the rush of final preparations by
fair staff, vendors and exhibitors, parking on the fairgrounds (not
in the lots outside the gate) becomes a no-man's land. I experienced
this first hand when I tried to drop off The Princess and her friend
(Princess E) at the Youth Inn.
In some places cars were parked
three-deep, bumpertobumpertobumper, or even bumpertobumper with one
wedged in perpendicular behind. This guaranteed that at least one car
was trapped, two if the aisle between parked cars was narrow. Which
is always was.
In other places the vehicles were
parked only one deep, but the entire row was parked full – fence to
fence – with no way to get around to the other side, wasting the
parking potential of that ever-tempting, greener grass.
There seemed to be only two schools of
spacial reasoning: park so close to the car next to you that you can
barely get out; or park far enough away that someone else might
possibly, but not quite, be able to park between you.
The same reasoning was applied to
parallel parking along the streets, too. The vehicles were either parked so
close you couldn't slip a sheet of paper between the bumpers; or far
enough away to guarantee an easy escape but not quite far enough away to park even a Fiat or Mini Cooper.
(I'd like to point out that this is just another reason why I should
get one of these cars -- then I could just
pick it up and take it with me where ever I went, like a purse puppy. But I'd use a backpack because a Mini Cooper in a handbag
would just look silly.)
The last time I saw parking this bad
was at a softball tournament.
Which brings me to my next point. I'm
not sure if this crap parking-style is linked to the venue, the event
or the audience. Traffic flow was heavier at the 5SOS concert at
Tinley Park, but with the help of the parking lot attendants
(very little help, they just looked bored and pointed),
Mom-mobiles filled the parking lot at a steady pace with a
choreographed precision. It was like watching couples ice skating...
but with mini-vans and compact SUVs.
Attendant-less parking at the fair was
a manic free-for-all. Extended-cab trucks struggled to perform three
point turns at the end of parked-full rows. Diesel-powered dualies
inched down the narrow aisles, dodging extra-long vehicles
overhanging their parking spaces. Many a hope for an empty spot was
dashed by a compact car hidden between two long-bed, lifted pickups.
To demonstrate my objectivity, I will
point out that by Monday – day 5 of the fair – parking was much
more organized. Ish.
On my second trip, I circled the
fairgrounds pleading with the stone-faced parking tyrants for
admitance. At each gate they pointed to the “Lot Closed” signs. I
pointed at the line of cars streaming out of the parking lot. They
pointed at the “Lot Closed” signs and waved their cone-tipped
traffic wand/lightsabers menacingly. I drove on.
I was finally granted entrance in the
newly opened Northeast Parking Lot, located roughly .5 miles west of
Iowa City. The parking lot attendants on border patrol were friendly
and briskly efficient, directing us into neat, straight lines, two
cars deep, with ample aisle space. This gave them plenty of room to
check our passports and provide us with the necessary vaccinations
for leaving the country.
As I and the other NEPL nomads hiked to
the fairgrounds proper, we left a trail of breadcrumbs for our return
trip and tried to ignore the vultures circling overhead. Many snide
comments were made about the countless empty parking spots we passed
in what were once considered the outlying lots, but which we now
looked upon as “rock star” parking. There was talk of mutiny or
of at least moving our cars, but we're all “Iowa Nice,” so
nothing came of it. We're also “Iowa Stubborn,” so we'll all go
back to the State Fair again, regardless of parking hassles.
But next time I'll drive a Fiat. And
carry a big backpack.
