I know it must be, because why else would you park it right in the fire lane there. I know you couldn’t have a driver’s license without being able to read (for example, the huge fucking sign–excuse me, THREE signs–reading “NO PARKING, FIRE LANE”). So I know that’s not it.
Even if the signs weren’t there, I know sheer common sense would tell you that if you stopp right in the fire lane right by the door to the convenience store, while other cars are getting gas from the pumps, there will be NO WAY for other cars to get by. They will be effectively TRAPPED there while you’re inside slowly weighing all the pros and cons of the lifeshattering decision of buying the pink-coconut flecked Sno-Balls over the King Dons. Anyone can see that with just a cursory glance. You wouldn’t even need to have passed high school geometry class to see it.
Having ruled those out, I can only presume that your car has the miraculous capability of rising up and hovering 7 feet in the air, out of the way, while other cars pass underneath. So what’s the secret? A series of polite horn taps from me? A button on your key fob? How do you get that thing to get the fuck off the pavement so I can take my TurboGuzzler Diet Pepsi I just bought and drive out here to GET ON WITH MY GODDAMN life?
Perhaps instead of parking your lazy ass right outside the door, you should put that fucker in gear in drive down to The Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! Museum. Isn’t it in Florida somewhere? I’m sure they’d be most interested in this amazing vehicle that LOOKS like a piece of shit, but is instead an major advancement in science. Tell Dean Cain hi for me, willya?