Oh who am I kidding? I’ve got tons. And among them is parallel parking.
Yes, I’m not a fan of parallel parking. Wait, that’s not a strong enough statement.
I’ve got a thorn in my side and it’s parallel parking!
Give me the choice of parallel parking or being force fed cotton balls, I’ll take the cotton. For, parallel parking and I are formidable opponents.
Whenever I drive into the city, parallel parking taunts me. The city blocks are full of parking spaces that demand you parallel park, though most of them are already taken. In fact, ever notice how when you need to park you can’t find a space within a five-mile radius? Except maybe in front of fire lanes, fire hydrants and driveways, and apparently, word has it, you can’t park there.
Many a time, I’ve driven in circles in search of parking, with my anxiety level increasing by the millisecond as I anticipate having to parallel park. Of course I’m forever hopeful that I’ll find the perfect spot, which for me entails a space that isn’t surrounded by behemoth SUV’s. Preferably a nice, ample curb with no cars in sight, for I just want to slide into my spot, thank you very much.
I hate hate hate having to align my car with the vehicle in front of an open spot–especially when said parking spot is teeny tiny–then having to slowly back up and try to figure out the magic moment when I must start turning into the space while making sure I don’t hit or go over the curb. Fat chance.
And when I finally do find an adequate parking space, one that fits my criteria, it’s usually so far from my destination that I have to call for a cab to get to where I need to go.
Then there’s the meter. When you park at the mall, it’s free and parking’s a cinch, unless, of course it’s the holidays or the weekend.
But go downtown and you pay through the teeth. One dollar for every ten minutes and who has that many dollars in coins? Why not just take my first born?
Sidebar: And speaking of my first born, today’s his birthday and he’s so grown up and handsome, but thinking of him reminds me of another stress–that of giving birth. Yikes! Though I suppose he wouldn’t mind me sacrificing him in return for free parking for the rest of my life, would he?
But I digress. Parallel parking. OMG, how I resent parallel parking. Life is stressful enough, if you ask me.
After all, I am not a risk-taker. The biggest risk I’m willing to take is climbing into the bathtub to take a shower. That’s my Mt Kilimanjaro, and as good a reason as any to make sure I have a life insurance policy. So why would I want to throw caution to the wind and tackle parallel parking?
I know, I know. Some of you don’t mind parallel parking, and some of you actually even like doing it. Well, to this I say, pshaw!
Parallel parking is the Number One reason most people fail the DMV driving exam the first time around. The second and third time, too, for that matter. That and running a Stop sign or a red light.
In the film, “Clueless,” Cher (played by Alicia Silverstone) is asked if she wants to practice parking. Her response?
“What’s the point? Everywhere you go has valet.”
Honestly, my dread of parallel parking is so bad, I can’t wait until I can afford to buy one of those cars that parks itself!
Give me angled parking, spots where all you have to do is pull into the spot and I’m there. I’m all for it. Parking lots. We need parking lots on every corner. But don’t ask me to back into the spot because I’m not keen on that either.
So what’s on your mind? I’m listening.