The barrier won’t open no matter what the woman tries. There is another car between her and me and I am standing on a steep slope down in front of the entrance. A car pulls up behind me. She often presses the receipt button and holds her card in front of the device. The barrier remains closed.
I have to be in the city and am happy with my northern disposition of leaving on time, taking into account open bridges, red traffic lights and hassles like this.
The driver behind me walks to the barrier. He looks around, talks to the woman for a while, it seems, and goes back.
A van comes from the other side and stops at the outgoing barrier. Could be a car from the parking garage manager who is going to help the woman. That is not true.
It’s a car pulling out. Another moment later. The barrier on our side suddenly opens and the woman can pass through. The car in front of me also goes in.
For me the tree remains closed again. The display shows: the parking garage is full. We have to wait until one goes out. That won’t take long. I find a spot at -2, walk outside and hear the fire alarm blaring.
I sit in a room listening for two hours to people who know a lot about a certain part of history, but I also spend two hours thinking about that alarm and whether it would be bad if my car burned down with the laptop in it. No. I always make backups.
Yet when I return I am happy that my car is unharmed on the same pitch.
The fire alarm is still blaring and even when I want to leave the parking garage there is a vehicle in front of a barrier that does not open .