A commuter is someone who travels over some distance to arrive at work or school. Being a commuter myself, I can say for certain, I travel “some” distance. I commute from Coral Springs, so I usually have to take the highway on a daily basis. Taking the highway awakens something within me that I never knew was there. I usually have to deal with various types of drivers on my daily travels. From the wonderful driver who doesn’t know what a turn signal is to those who got their license from a cereal box. You might think to yourself “commuting sounds horrible,” but it isn’t all bad. You tend to appreciate the true beauty of your surroundings when you’re stuck going fifteen miles an hour, in a sixty five speed limit zone.
Now you might say “but Mario, if the highway is so terrible then just take the normal roads.” Well that’s another story. Have you ever been in a small elevator with ten other people? It’s along the lines of that, somehow the cars drive even closer to you than normal. So if you have claustrophobia or anxiety, I would not recommend this route.
It unfortunately does not end there. Once I get off the highway, I have to play a game of “choose the right road,” where there are no winners. It’s basically me choosing which line I want to wait in, because all the entrances to NSU have lines.
Once I finally arrive on campus after what feels like eternity, I wander around surveying the area for a parking spot. This is a skill in of itself, because you have to understand how the parking lot works and enter the minds of the other students also searching frantically. Being behind someone is the worst thing that can happen to you because that means they will get any spots that open up first. My best advice would be to take a lane and make it your own, draw your name on it if you have to and never show fear; they smell it.
Finally once I have given up, I find my way to the parking garage which is around 50 miles away from where I need to be. I make my way to the third floor because the parking garage is surprise, surprise, filled as well. This is where it gets interesting, because when Florida isn’t trying to bake me alive, the elevator in the parking garage is. Luckily that experience only lasts about ten seconds. Out of breath, time, patience and sweat, I stumble in to my first class of the day, looking like I just did the backstroke in an Olympic size swimming pool.
As a commuter, I want to attend all the fun events on campus but they are usually quite some time after my classes, so I have to choose between my bed now or my bed hours from now. I usually go with the former. You may say “Mario that’s a silly reason not to go to fun events with free food and possible prizes.” Well, after numerous near collisions, a game show with no winners, gladiator style battles for parking spots and unfathomable conditions, heading back to my bed seems like paradise.
