Secret Life of Parking Lots

Ever notice how often you end up hanging around in parking lots at parties? Beware the secret allure of parking lots! Before you realise it, you'll be hanging onto the car, screaming obscenities and a couple of hours will have fled past you unnoticed.
It all unfolds at the start of the journey. The cool, gleaming tar glides you to your parking bay, undiscovered secrets waiting to be born. Cruise inside, shake your toosh, have a little drink..have another little drink..have a tequila...and that's when it usually goes awry. The music is pumping, the people are dancing and BAM! The next thing you know, you're parking next to some stranger in some person's car blurting out your bull***t! You've been seduced into the matrix of this wild world.
If you look closely, you can see the signs wafting through the room implying a mosey to the car. A nod of the head; a jerk of the hand and the message is clear: "Let's go to the car!"
This ritual is an art in perfect timing. As one group sneaks off (fabricating some excuse to the envious observer) so another group bulldozers in. Many a time have I sauntered out to the parking lot, to discover familiar faces running amok, cajoling me into the festivities.
The parking lot is not restricted to normal operating hours either. At any time of day or night, you may easily find yourself churning up that tarmac, the club's doors long time closed with a posse of friends spurring each other on to perform profanities best left unsaid! There, you might join the last of the straddlers, willing the club to re-open its doors, knowing full well that the danger is you. Then you're off again, a caravan of enthusiasts following your rear, hunting for the next spot to create some chaos.