The Parking Handicapped

Posted by graysonjack on August 15, 2011 · 10 Comments 

I have a question; is it bad form to leave a note on someone’s car if they’re parked like Helen Keller in a station wagon? 

*Best Jerry Seinfeld impression*  “What iiiiiis the deal?!” 

It’s one thing if you have explosive diarrhea and have to stunt-car your way into a spot while desperately clenching your balloon knot, but at least have an ‘Out to poop’ sign in your window so that I know you were running on precious little time and not being a manner challenged ass bag.   Ok, maybe asking for a poop sign is a bit much; but when you take up a parking space and a half because you’re too lazy to back up and correct yourself, or perhaps you really don’t care about anyone else…then you my parking handicapped friend…are an asshole.  I don’t know if it’s out of respect for other drivers or if I simply can’t stand not to be perfectly between the lines, but I’m compulsive about correcting my vehicle after my initial parking attempt. 

Besides the ‘I don’t give a rat’s ass how I parked’ guy; there’s the ‘I don’t want anyone’s lesser car to touch mine so I need to park in the middle of two spots’ guy.  For you sensitive men out there, I use ‘guy’ as a generalization.  Women are by all accounts assholes as well…with all due respect of course.

I suppose it’s easier to sympathize with the ‘nice car’ guy a bit more; continuing the ‘asshole’ theme, far too many people will swing their bondo covered door open as if exploding out of an ejection seat and leave a beautiful ding in my door with which to remember my ill advised trip to the mall.  But I digress, that’s another rant for another day.

Going back to the beginning of this Pulitzer caliber non-fiction/prose like rant, I ask again: Is it bad form to leave a note on someone’s car if they channeled Stevie Wonder’s driving abilities when parking?  I ask because I have a relevant anecdote.  Back some years ago when I lived in San Diego, I had a neighbor of the ‘bitch’ variety living at the apartments which I too resided.  Day after day she would park crookedly in her spot which caused her rear drivers side tire to impede on my space by several inches.  As you may well not care, it made things difficult to park within my allotted space.  To make an incredibly boring story a tad shorter and more tolerable, I lost my proverbial shit one day and left a (considering the circumstances) polite note asking her to please consider others when parking her vehicle.  Because I’m not a coward and I truly wanted to resolve the issue, I left my phone and apartment number if she wished to contact me.  Apparently this woman did not appreciate my critique of her parking skills and promptly came to my apartment where she proceeded to scold me for, I suppose, leaving a polite note on her car ever so kindly requesting a more courteous parking job.  Because I’m short tempered and love a good fight, insults about weight, manners and maternal promiscuity were tossed about liberally.  Her husband stood silently in the background with apologetic eyes.  I felt his plight, the plight of a man reluctantly backing up his wife. 

The moral of this tale is simply: Are you fucking kidding me?!  Don’t be such a hapless retard!  If you’re going to take up two parking spaces at the apartment, one of which I pay for; by God I want the money for it!  At least then I could afford to drink your idiocy away.  If you’re doing this in a public parking lot, seriously, don’t be an a-hole…it’s a good way to get your car keyed; trust me I know.

Filed under rants · Tagged with Apartment, Bad Parking, Helen Keller, Jerry Seinfeld, park, Parking space, San Diego, Transport, United States