The biggest menace is – and I am saying this with a straight and very serious face - the parking marshal. Now everyone knows that for you to get a parking space requires you to drive around the block around 300 times. When you finally find a parking bay it is tighter than the rear exit of a mosquito with haemorrhoids.
So you have to be an excellent parker to actually get the car into the bay. This is where the marshals have found a niche. First they will shepherd you into an open bay and then try to help you snuggle into the parking bay. It is almost a mission impossible to park your car at the Main Mall if your driver’s training is from Roger Rabbit Rubbish Driving School.
But the parking marshals are there to salve your parking wounds – almost like an agony aunt of parking. One day I arrived with a friend and found a woman struggling to release her car from the shackles of the Main Mall parking bays. My friend needed about seven attempts to get a driving licence while I only managed it at the second attempt so to him I was Ivy League in driving or just thereabout.
So this friend of mine - according to him- was always one mark short of the pass mark which is a standard response of everyone who has failed the theory test. I too officially reported one mark shy of the pass mark when I was actually four marks off. You say that usually because it is mighty embarrassing for a person with a degree to fail a test littered with questions that test recall only and would be a piece of doughnut for a JC dropout. My friend immediately swung into action. “Why not let my friend help you with that,” he said.
“He’s an excellent parker.” Not to toot my own horn, but I am a pretty good parker. So with my friend having put my manhood on the line, I got into the driver’s seat and, after making 17 million manoeuvres, each one moving the car roughly the length of a rat’s toe, I managed to get the woman’s car out of there. I swear if there had been another coat of paint on that car, it would not have made it. I do not even want to mention the amount of sweat generated courtesy of those manoeuvres. The woman was very grateful and smitten at the same time. I, as a parker as well as a man, was deeply relieved. But my joy was short-lived as we noticed a parking marshal glaring at us with the you-took-my-job look. This was unfair because he could not help the lady ease her car out of the parking lot in the first place. Marshals don’t need an invitation to cause trouble.
He barked at us as if he owned the parking lot. This marshal represented the stereotype of a mugger you see in crime movies. Everything about him screamed trouble. We scurried off as soon as he started lacing his charade with some choice words. But obviously because there was a woman in the vicinity, you cannot just bolt but have to put a granite face and act unfazed and when you are safely in your car and you have eased out the parking bay, you too start throwing some choice words his way and promise him you will remove his body from his head next time you happen along. Parking marshals are sharply aware of the economic trends and are quick to complain about remuneration from drivers that fall below the poverty datum line. The complaints range from a contorted face and a ‘let’s just leave it’ refrain and any driver shorn of Jesus’ grace might get those miserable coins thrown in their faces. (For comments, feedback and insults email [email protected]) Thulaganyo Jankey is a training consultant who runs his own training consultancy that provides training in BQA- accredited courses. His other services include registering consultancies with BQA and developing training courses. Contact him on 74447920 or email [email protected].
