Dear, UF Parking Situation…

Parking at UF

This isn’t very good and I’ll probably end up deleting it tomorrow. But I feel like both a lazy ass and deadbeat blogger when I don’t post on Mondays. I think I have OCD.

Also, this is an anonymous guest submission.

I’m gonna miss a lot about the University of Florida: the hot girls and the… uh…

(*blanking*)

No, but really. Gonna miss the circuitous academic discussions pertaining to nothing in particular. Gonna miss the sleepless all-nighters and the four-dollar Starbucks coffee raping my wallet at five different on-campus location. Gonna miss the tuition hikes. Gonna miss the plummeting quality of education and the budget cuts.

I’m gonna miss the cliquey third floor of Westie, the pop-collared d-bags infesting Midtown, the 30-page lit reviews, and the muted satisfaction that comes from completing the fourth and fifth drafts of the 30-page lit reviews.

But of all the things I’m sincerely gonna miss, none can rival the nostalgia I’ll inevitably feel for UF parking.

Circling the various on-campus lots has become something of a Monday night right of passage for yours truly. I’ve listened to a lot of good tunes in these wasted hours, called a lot of good people, said a lot of good cuss words.

Describing the UF campus as a ‘shithole’ would be unfair. It has its charms – the aesthetic glories of McCarty Hall, the huge patches of environmentally friendly soil, the slaughterhouse.

Still, its parking locales could use some work.

Don’t get me wrong: I like squeezing my 60-inch-wide Infiniti into the 61-inch-wide spots behind Broward just as much as the next guy, especially when there’s a Suburban parked on either side. I’m all for threading needles.

I don’t, however, trust the freshman driving his F-150 with iPod earbuds in to respect my vehicle’s personal space.

In fact, I fully expect him to methodically f*ck up every square inch of my passenger door… because this is what 18-year-old males jacked up on testosterone, caffeine, Korn and apathy do.

Said kinds of weekly funsies – uh, the property damage – begin to wear on the patience and test the nerves, but I can’t fault the school for this most clustered of f***s. It’s doing the best it can with a $1.1 billion endowment and 10,800 parking spots (for 50,000 students).

So keep up the good work, guys.

Signed,

Your Biggest Fan: A Grad Student With A Car