I Miss Parking Lots and Plastic Bags

I’m starting to get used to some things here. I compost instead of using the sink disposal. I don’t look up the daily weather report. I put sunscreen on the kids every morning. I remember to bring a cardigan for evenings out. I (mostly) remember to factor in time-of-day-traffic when going places. I have had coffee at Philz and Peet’s. I buy a lot of organic (mostly because I can’t find non-organic). I automatically check the bike lane before backing out of my driveway or making a turn. I remember to ask about allergies and dietary restrictions. It’s not as strange hearing multiple foreign languages spoken most places, and Mandarin everywhere. I even wore tights outside once (closest thing to yoga pants I own).

But sometimes when I go out, I still say to myself, man. I miss parking lots and plastic bags.

Suburbs are supposed to have parking lots. Your biggest problem is supposed to be, “can I snag the spot closest to the cart returns?” or “which of these fifty open spots is closest to the entrance?” not, “which lot three blocks away has an opening?” or “how many times should I circle around hoping a street-side spot opens up?”

There needs to be a word in between a suburb and a city, because that’s what this place is. This place is like if you took a regular suburb full of old houses, set rules preventing it from turning into an actual city with high-rises, then poured in a bazillion people, and more who probably want to move in. The main streets are narrow. There’s always traffic. Our elementary school of 600 students has ten parking spots out front. Costco is constantly crowded. There are shacks that cost more than mansions, sitting next to actual mansions on renovated lots. The parking lots that do exist are small, squeezed full of one-way lanes with spots on a slant. I look along my street and feel like I could be in a normal suburb—then I look across the street at Philz with the line going out the door and people talking about start-ups at the tables outside, and the tiny parking lot in front—and think, not so much.

And I’m an evil person, but I miss plastic bags. Plastic bags seem to be outlawed here. You can get them, but you have to pay extra and everyone glares at you as you walk out. I’m constantly forgetting to bring along reusable bags. So I’m usually juggling items by hand out to the trunk, or stuffing them one at a time into the storage area under the stroller.

Apparently plastic bags are terrible. They kill all kinds of wildlife when animals ingest plastic particles; they are made using non-renewable resources like oil; they are some of the most commonly littered items and can clog up drainage systems; they are hugely difficult to recycle and end up taking forever to decompose in landfills. I should have educated myself and stopped using them anyway; instead I am being forced into it by the government, which seems to happen a lot here.

In general, I’m starting to fit in more here, but I’m aware it’s a huge bubble. As Dave said today when flying out, the rest of the country is a lot more white, obese, and poor. They’re not all skinny Asians with terminal degrees and disposable incomes. I say that without judgment on either side; only with a strange sense that my world no longer reflects the reality that is most of this country. Where people probably use plastic bags and have parking lots.