My perfect career

 Finally, I have discovered my dream job! I don’t know what it pays, but that doesn’t matter. When you’re doing what you love, the satisfaction is its own reward. Sadly, there’s not much information on which companies actually hire for this elite skill. I have searched all through Indeed.com, and frankly I can’t find any mention of it at all, but I must push forward no matter what the odds. I’ve also checked several other websites, and college job boards. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in my area looking for a Parking Lot Designer. That’s what I want to do with the rest of my life. Think about the prestige, to be able to drive over to my local market with several friends and proudly state, “This mess of weird lines, pot-holes, and puddles is my personal Masterpiece, A true Work of Art.”

How did I come to have this lofty dream? Well, I was looking at a college brochure from a very prestigious engineering school, and it clearly stated, “Everything has to be designed by someone.” If that’s true, the designer of parking lots must be the pinnacle of the trade. Don’t believe me? Well, just think about the last time you went to the store on a rainy day. Every deep puddle is exactly where the driver has to step when exiting their car. It doesn’t matter what kind of car you have, when you step out of the driver’s door, it’s right into a puddle. Sometimes there’s even a puddle for the passenger too. That kind of precision in design can’t be taught. It can only be learned by years of experience, and hard work.

Mixes art and design

Coincidence, you shout. I say no way. Look in front and behind of those puddles. Those areas are higher, and dryer. Specifically designed so children getting out of the minivan start with dry feet, on a perfect platform from which they can jump in to the puddle for maximum splash. So not only are your shoes a little wet from stepping into that puddle, your pants are also soaked from the splash of your little one’s pleasure.

Next there are the lines. Those have to be painted with the skill, and imagination of Picasso. Think about the work involved with painting the lines, sanding them partially off, then repainting them just far enough away, so as to confuse the snot out of drivers. Mere mortals are never allowed to know exactly where ‘between the lines’ actually is. Where would the fun be in that? Also, what about the width of these spaces? They must be designed with drivers of skateboards in mind. However, most people drive SUV’s, minivans, and trucks. To park those behemoths correctly requires the skill and precision of a surgeon. Don’t even get me started about trying to open your door parked next to one of those giants, but don’t scratch the paint. Ohh Yes! I’m convinced Jackson Pollock himself would be proud to create such a confused work of genius.  

The big and the small of it

If you’re really lucky, you might get to produce a lot with Compact Car Only spaces. These spaces are precisely designed so no vehicle could possibly get in or out of them. There are two issues here. First is the fact that only sixteen people in the entire USA drive compact cars, and to purchase one you must sign a waiver promising to never use a compact car parking space. Or perhaps they have a religious aversion. Whatever the reason, you will never see a compact car in a compact car parking space. Secondly, people in Hummers see these spaces as a challenge to the owner’s manhood, or womanhood, or childhood, or whatever. There must be great job-satisfaction, in designing a surface that has so much vibrant and sustained confusion.

Remember, the lot cannot be chaos, the theory of chaos provides for the possibility, somewhere there is a lot with straight lines and wide spaces. I defy you to find it. No, these places are planned, as if they were a fine neo-cubist painting.  

I want more, but I know my limitations

I will admit, though it crushes me to do so, designing parking lots would be my limit. Even I, could never hope to ascend to the position of windshield-wiper design. Ah, but what fascinating creations they are. Remember, wipers are sold by length only. The designer has no idea of how a particular windshield will be curved, positioned, or which side the wiper is to be installed. Nor do they know the age or height of the driver. Yet, the wiper will always streak directly in front of the driver’s eyes, providing maximum vision impairment, with even the smallest streak. Notice to, they never streak on the passenger side. With those exacting standards, I can only imagine the testing facility which produces such an incredible device. Those designers are the truest artists of this world, and I’m in awe of their power.

Of course, planning such wonderful devices as windshield-wipers and parking-lots would be all for naught if the correct construction materials did not exist. Take asphalt for instance, this primary component of every lot must also be manufactured to the exacting standards of the lot designer. It must be laid smooth so as to give a sense of confidence to the driver, then be able to fall apart in to potholes, at a moment’s notice. Then the pothole must never be repairable, even with premium, hand-picked asphalt. Nay I say, once a pothole, always a pothole. Yet, we feeble humans must think we can repair them. Eternal Hope is part of the design process. We fill holes with optimism, as well as asphalt, eager that someday the hole will remain closed. Yet again and again, the holes reopen to once more wreak havoc on our tires. People tend to be very naïve.

The truth behind the art

Personally, I think the original proposal contains the exact location of every pothole and the date, plus or minus two weeks, each hole will appear. Then, at the selected time, an explosive charge detonates, fashioning the depression within a tolerance of two centimeters. Once the pothole date has been reached, nightly crews are dispatched to see that the hole is maintained. If someone foolishly tries to fill the cavity, these crews are prepared to recreate it. What satisfying work this must be? It’s like restoring a Rembrandt, or Van Gogh to its original beauty every night.

All this makes me wonder if there’s a parking lot museum. I mean there’s a Spam Museum (the canned meat, not the stupid email) in Austin, Minnesota, chock full of Spam displays and history. Someone thought that would be a draw. So why couldn’t there be a Parking Lot Museum? With pictures of memorable potholes, and confusing lines. It might just become a vacation destination as big as the Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota. There could even be special room for the history of asphalt. Don’t forget to get your picture taken next to the damaged car as an angry motorist, only five dollars. I don’t have the funds for such a project, so the idea is yours, if you want it. Remember; If you build it, Somebody will throw rocks at it.