Category: Whisper Down the Web

The other day I was on the parking deck and, being my first day in my coveted senior parking spot, I didn’t feel the need to pay attention.

Now if you’ve never been up on the deck you might not understand, but it’s a senior war zone, imagine the parking deck filled with seniors trying to get out of school at the end of the day? Do i need to be any more descriptive than that?

If you aren’t turned completely around in your seat backing out, and possibly have an aerial view of your parking space, like on Google Earth, you won’t move without a fight.

It would seem to me that the parking deck should have extra large spaces, since the deck is predominantly for seniors, and let’s face it guys, we’re not all the best drivers. At least I know for sure that I’m not.

As I attempted to back out of my spot blaring Biggie Smalls, I almost hit three different cars. As people were screaming bloody murder for me to stop (I could only tell this as I turned around and saw their mouths moving, hence the loud music) all I could do was laugh. For some reason whenever I royally mess up while driving I laugh, not a good trait I must add.

Anyway, after I almost hit the person behind me, who coincidentally was the same person who had been parked beside me, I thought I was in the clear. So I continued to back up until I saw a huge truck in my rearview that would have been a new addition to my car if I wouldn’t have stopped.

FINALLY I got out of my spot and almost, almost, almost rear-ended the person in front of me.

I believe some day there will be an “I Survived: the Parking Deck”  television special on the BIO channel for any of you fellow science nerds.

By: Abby Wilson

Its funny how many terrible things can happen to you during your days in high school.

For instance, today I was sitting at the lunch table minding my own business and plop, something landed on my head. Now I truly have thought many times that I’ve felt things fall on me when really it was just my hair moving or something else insignificant like that.

But just in case, I asked my friend who was sitting beside me to check and sure enough it was a blob of spit. Being the good friend she is, she wiped it off with her sleeve and I decided to try and not think about the germs that were most likely infesting my hair.

How funny is it that the day I get spit on two of my friends come up and decide to rub my hair around? Now we have a serious problem. The germs from my hair have crossed over to their hands and my other friends sleeve. What if the spitter had swine flu? What if being spit on at lunch just opened a whole can of worms and the school is going to be infested with a super spit virus?

I guess within the next few days we’ll find out. And hey, you spitter, just know that when this super virus comes about you will be the one who began the entire thing.

Then the thought crossed my mind, was I intentionally spit on? Was I the target? I still haven’t come to the conclusion as to which is worse; actually being spit on or being the target of the spitting. I have decided after reviewing the situation that I most likely was not the target. But if I was then that is pretty impressive aim.

By: Abby Wilson