The introvert drives her small car to the very last parking space (small cars only) at the edge of the fence at Two EEs Farm. Bliss, she thinks. Nobody can block my view and I can easily escape out the gate onto the Fraser Highway. It's early morning and there are few shoppers. She'll just grab a couple of things.
Alas, no. When she returns to the vehicle with her lettuce and lemons, she finds that someone has parked a huge pickup truck beside her little car, though the rest of the lot is empty. Now she cannot see to extricate herself.
Why do people do this? She simply doesn't understand. Carefully and with trepidation, she backs out past the huge obstacle, breathes a sigh of relief when she finally rejoins the traffic on the busy road.
***
The extrovert rolls into the parking lot, alarmed to find there are no other cars. He can't expose his truck all alone out here in this desert of silence and space. No sign of life. He looks over his shoulder with apprehension. Where are the other humans?
Then he spies it. A little white car is parked way up at the front, by the fence. Relieved, he makes a beeline for it, slides in right alongside. At least he has only one side exposed now.
Next time he'd better shop later, when there are more people. This place looks like a morgue.
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