May 2, 2020
My husband and I drove to the empty parking lot of an LA Fitness, which had been shut down for almost two months. We picked a parking space at random in the middle of the lot. Occasionally a car wound wind through the surrounding drive up to the front doors of the gym. The drivers wandered toward the windows, cupping their eyes as they peaked inside. I’m not sure what they expected to see.
After a few minutes, a station wagon backed in behind us, back bumper to back bumper. A person exited the passenger door, walked two spaces over, and put down a brown paper bag. After they returned to their car, I got out of our car and walked over to the brown bag. I removed and replaced its contents before walking back to our car.
In our car I show my husband a mason jar of whiskey and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. In the car behind us, our friends were leafing through a tall stack of the complete “Chronicles of Narnia.”
I wonder how C.S. Lewis would feel about his works becoming currency for alcohol.
Because the lot was empty, we created some space between the cars. We sat on our trunk and our friends sat in their trunk (our sedan and their wagon) and we talked for an hour until we all got sun burnt.
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