But it was certainly in the way that he carried himself, as he stepped out of his BMW. Dressed in a medium blue jacket that looked as though it could have been made of fine suede, sized to fit his slim build. The navy-blue dress slacks, the light-brown shoes. The white shirt, with ultra-thin red stripes that were barely visible and gave the shirt an appearance of pale pink, with the slim, red tie.
He dressed like he was in sales, and business had been good. His bald head, seemingly shaved on purpose, was tanned, as though he spent his spare time in a tanning salon or had vacationed in a sunny clime. His Bluetooth earpiece blinked a steady pulse of blue, letting me know he was in a conversation.
He didn't look around as he exited his vehicle and headed straight for the store. Oblivious to what was going on around him, not caring at all.
I first saw his vehicle as I was rounding the parking lot from the opposite direction. I had seen his car slowing, as though he was going to turn into the aisle where I was about to park. There were plenty of vacant spaces, but I decided that I was going to pull into the third-closest spot from the store entrance. That left him with the first spot, with room between us for any other car that chose to fill a spot.
But he wasn't interested in the closest space to the store, or the second-closest. He wasn't interested in any of the vacant spots. Except, for one.
The one that wasn't a spot.
He moved into the oncoming lane in front of the sliding doors of the IGA and came to rest about a foot out from the island that divided the lane in front of the store from the parking lot. This was where he wanted to place his German automobile.
It wasn't because he wanted to keep his car from being at risk at parking near another car, which could come into contact with his: there were plenty of vacant spots, where he could have simply been one of those people who occupy to spots to create a buffer. There were plenty of empty spots, close to the store, in which he could pull that stunt.
No, he wanted to park his car wherever he wanted. Who cared what other people thought.
Moreso, it looked like he had wanted to park in front of the doors, but not put his vehicle directly in the path of unreliable people with shopping carts, and so he parked in front of the doors but on the opposite side of the road.
For my part, I parked my own car in a designated spot, watched him exit his car, and then followed him in. Not to follow him, mind you, but to simply go into the store, myself, to run my own errand.
Perhaps he was making a quick stop, to pick up someone or something that was awaiting his arrival. His stay would be brief and he would be gone before anyone knew it.
I walked into the store with a purpose of my own. I was picking up something for lunch. It was to be a quick stop, too: a sandwich, drink, and snack. But because it was a Wednesday, and I was planning to work from home on Thursday, I thought I would pick up one or two cans or bottles of beer.
I always drink something I've never had before on a Thursday. I've bought into that beer app, Untappd, and it's New Brew Thursday theme. I picked up a brown ale and a milkshake IPA, and made my way to the cashier.
While I didn't give the BMW driver much thought, during my shopping, I didn't see him while I was standing in line at the cashier. Perhaps, I thought, he's already left. I had almost been in the store for five minutes.
I always speak French to the cashier, though our conversation is always the same. "Bonjour, ça va?" she asks.
"Oui, et toi?"
"Ca va, merci. Veux-tu un sac?"
"Non, merci."
She would tell me the price.
"Par debit." I would tap my card on the debit reader and she would hand my my receipt when the transaction was completed.
"Merci, bonne journée."
"Et toi aussi."
Actually, the cashier only asks me if I need a bag when I come for a sandwich but don't buy beer. When I want beer, I bring in an LCBO bag with individual pockets to protect bottles. When I only pick up a sandwich, I don't need a bag. On this day, she didn't ask about the bag because I had my own.
With my purchase in hand, I made my way outside.
The BMW was still there, still parked in the opposing direction, on the wrong side of the parking island. I stopped, took a photo with my Android, and continued to my car. As I pulled out of the parking lot and off the property, there was still no sign of the driver.
It takes a special kind of arrogance to think that you deserve the right to leave your vehicle wherever you want. To think that the rules of driving and parking don't apply to you.
It's scenes like this when I really hope Karma is a real thing, and that it comes back soon.
Typical 3 series owner.....if business really had been good he'd be driving a better car.
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