Page 6
Mark Owens stars in
"Parking Lot Warrior'
by Mark Owens
It was 20 to nine on an
ordinary school morning and if I
didn't move fast I knew wouldn't
get a space. (Parking at school
can be a real pain at times. Last
week I nearly took out an ROTC
group out for a morning jog
trying to beat a Buick for a spot).
I jumped in my car and
cranked the engine to life. I
backed out of the driveway at 35
mph and tore down the street,'
spitting gravel and nearly hitting'
my paper boy. My neighbor
Larry stood on the sidewalk and
gave me a solemn salute. He
knew what I was up against.
A minute later I had picked up
my friend John and turned
towards Behretxl.
Driving across town was easy
compared to what was waiting for
us. The other drivers had no idea
just how easy they had it. I said
as much to John.
"Yeah, right, you notice
they're headed towards the city.
At least they have meters.
Wimps."
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Mark Owens
I agreed and reached for
another can of Jolt. Some people
think it's not good for you, but
there are times when a man needs
a higher level of consciousness.
This was one of those times.
At the base of Cooper Road,
we entered Zone One. I zipped
my flak jacket while John
buckled his helmet.
Glancing at my rear view
mirror, I saw a '79 Monte Carlo
coming up fast. Without even
turning down the stereo, which
was blasting the Beastie Boys'
latest release, I reached over to
thumb a switch on the dashboard.
There was a bang from the back
of my car and ten gallons of
Cheez Whiz poured out onto the
mad.
The Monte skidded and
swerred in the slippery yellow
?goo, finally nose-diving into a
ditch. I pushed the pedal to the
floor and my Nissan station
wagon surged up Cooper, trying
ito put some distance between us
land the baby blue Pinto that had
;taken the, Monte's place.
We crested the hill and I
looked back to see the Pinto
suddenly put on a burst of speed
and move out to the left lane. As
the car got closer I could hear a
rumbling hiss which could mean
only one thing: ram jets. I told
John to do something. He did.
As the Pinto passed us and
moved back into the right lane, I
moved over to the left. John
rummaged around in his bag and
pulled out a small grappling-
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TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 71z°
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hook cannon. He took aim and
fired. The hook shot out towards
the Pinto with 50 yards of steel
cable snaking behind it. The
hook caught the base of the ram
jet. John shot the secondary hook
into a huge oak tree and detached
the cable from the gun. "Watch
this," he snickered.
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Must Be Present To Win
The Collegian Thursday, November 16, 1989
The
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Pinto raced ahead. The car was
yanked up on its rear wheels. The
Pinto, not the world's most
stable motor vehicle, tumbled
end-over-end down the road.
I sped along right behind it,
swerving to avoid the red-hot
pieces of metal littering the road.
The Pinto came to a halt in front
of me and I slalomed the station
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wagon around it and raced to the
end of Cooper. The guy on the
Moped wasn't so lucky. Oh well.
We hung a right at Cooper
and headed up Station Road.
There wasn't a lot of room to
maneuver and no place for other
cars to cut us off.
We reached the top of the hill
(continued on page 7)
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