The Last Space On Drury Lane

Once I turned onto Drury Lane, London had already decided what to do with its evening. The theatres were emptying as the sun was setting, with articulate individuals coming out in dribs and drabs as each show closed its curtains, and taxis pulling up and leaving like a plane at an airport. The scene was well and truly set in London, with the fresh smell of rain and fast-food takeaways. The only issue is that I wasn’t meant to be here, on the road, letting the pedestrians cross over to get to their taxi. I should’ve been getting into the city via train, but like always, they were cancelled. A busy environment that you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy, especially on a Friday night.

For those who have never driven down Drury Lane, it almost feels like the buildings are leaning in towards you. It isn’t a road that you fly down, thats for certain, as you don’t know what’s gonna pull out in front of you or even those emptying the theatres. This is one of those moments that your hazard perception test really teaches you, to remain vigilant and treat everything as a potential hazard. So my search for parking in London during this period was very optimistic. You can almost guarantee every spot is taken.

I suddenly came across a gap between two cars; it had to be a space for my 15-year-old Volkswagen Polo. As I got closer, I started to see a shadow, caused by the bright orange streetlights beaming down onto the road. With just a few more wheel turns, that is when I discovered that space had been taken by a Fiat 500. I could feel the rage building up inside me, but deep down, I only had myself to blame, as I should’ve got a taxi into the city centre.

As I pounded my fist into the driving wheel and sounded my horn, passersby stopped and stared to see what was causing the noise. For some reason, everybody turned their heads to look at me, but didn’t seem to bother about the many taxis on Drury Lane sounding their horns in unison. I looked around, and that embarrassment soon became excitement as I saw a car pull out of a parking space, knowing that this was my golden ticket to securing a parking spot on Drury Lane.

I pulled my car into the space, straightened the vehicle, stopped and pulled up the handbrake with exhilaration. I am now a happy man who has located his parking spot in one of the busiest parts of London. After an inside celebration of where I parked, I digested my surroundings whilst searching for signs about any parking information that may be useful. All I could see was a sign that said no parking between a certain period, and luckily for me, I was outside during that time.

As I got out of my vehicle, I secretly listened to the couple arguing at the doorway of one of the theatres. Before taking a quick look myself, I can feel the others around me also intrigued by what the couple's debate was about and whether or not it was something malicious. Turns out they were debating about the theatre, but it seemed the fumes of the alcohol they drank certainly made the argument far more passionate.

The sound of my car went off, and I checked my pockets one last time, ensuring I had the essentials such as my wallet, phone and keys. Luckily, I had plenty of time to spare before I had to be at my seat inside the wonderful Andrew Edmunds in Soho. For me, the night had only just started despite my hectic start to it. Nevertheless, I knew the stress was soon behind me, and I could explore London’s finest avenues before my meal kick-starts the weekend.