Indiana Was My Dog

Sometimes, I decide to live my life like a scene in a movie. I don’t know if it’s because I like to tell the stories later, or the things I do seem like good ideas at the time, but I just do random things. Case in point, yesterday I went to a friend’s house to get ready for a meeting. He lives in a condo, and to get into the underground guest parking area, you need to get buzzed in. The buzzer is also on the right hand side of the sloping driveway, so you HAVE to get out of the car to access it. As I pull into the driveway, I turn my car off, pull up the emergency brake, and get out. Just as I am doing so a car comes up behind me to either use the car buzzer doohickey or just come down behind me to the guest lot. I know they don’t live in the building because they just would have gone on ahead of me. At the same time that all of this is going on, a car from within the building is leaving. His departure just negated the buzz I just received from my friend, therefore shortening the amount of time to get in the building. As I see all this happening, I have a decision to make, do I floor it or do I just buzz again? Mind you, this is all taking 30 seconds. I decide to make a run for it. I literally run back into my car, slam the door shut, turn on the car, release the emergency brake, and jam on the gas in a move that can only be classified as ridiculously fluid. I maneuvered my car in such a way that I got inside the parking area with only a third of the gate open. A lesser man would have been killed. The guy behind me also attempts to come in the gate with this miniscule buzz. Little does he know he is not I, Master of All Things Awesome. As the gate came to a close with the guy that was behind me now separated by bars of metal, I could only do two things: hum the theme song from Indiana Jones and reach back for my hat.