I pull up to a stall in an underground parking garage. In the black SUV next to me, a 50-something chinese woman sits in the back seat, knitting. The front-passenger seat is empty, but decorated with a hello-kitty seat cover. A 50-something chinese man sits in the driver’s seat, talking on his cellphone. As I get out of my car, I look up at the car across from them. In a silver SUV, a slightly younger-looking chinese man sits in the driver’s seat of an SUV, talking on his cellphone. There is likewise a woman shadowed in the back seat of his car. I walk to get my ticket, and on my way back, it becomes clear that the two men are actually talking to each other. When one is talking, the other is listening. Not looking directly at each other, but certainly glancing up. As I lock my car and walk towards the exit, the couple in the silver SUV start their engines and peel out of the parking garage at high speed, tirese squealing on the slick cement.
Looking for a place to happen