Yes this is the Promised Parking spot, The lands opened, and the crowds parted allowing me to claim the finest tract of land in the fields. Right next to the handicpped spots, about 20 feet from the door. Other lesser folks, not blessed like me this day, are parking at least 1/2 mile away. I go in to shop, complete my transaction, and begin to take my leave.
The first claimant appears. Old lady, Waiting patiently a respectful distance to the left. In the correct lane. Yes you are worthy, you have passed the test. I Declare you to be my successor. I will quickly put my bags in the trunk and leave.
But what is this? To the right another stakes claim. Stupid punk in old Monte-Carlo with music too loud, and hat on backwards. You would not be fit for my land even if you were the first to apply. Ah and you think I am stupid and Naive. You inch forward in a vain attempt to force me to back out the other way so you can swoop in. Fool, I have learned the arts from a master of parking-battlefield strategy. Soon you see you lack the sack to challenge me when stakes such as these are on the line.
Just as I set the last bag in, the final usurper appears. Nasty entitled soccer-mom in Cayenne. Pulling up from the right in the close-up side of the lane. No way you can actully pull into the spot. Your dark heart shows as it is clear you subscribe to the black-arts that it you can get one square inch of your nose in the spot, then fuddle through a ten point turn, the battle may be won. I know how to fight your type as well.
Executing a masterful backup to block both punk and soccer-mom, I pass within a nanometerof the cars on both sides of me, but no foul was caused. The fools of Monte-Carlo and Cayenne forgot to take into account that with the handicapped space next to me on their side I had ample room for getting out of my spot in an masterful manuever to their side.
Now we see the weekness inherant within your evil kind. You are in a hurry I am not, I have the patience of righteousness. Honk all you want, you will eventually back up so that I may back up, to fully allow the designated successor to claim the territory. Eventually you see the fatal flaw and give in, the passage of inheritance has been won.
I park well away from the entrance and walk. Not for me the tight congested politics of the nearby; I enjoy exercise and the peace and quiet of a chance to arrange myself in the car before heading out.
I know you. I have observed you with great myrth.
But by the time you and your three costars have acted out your marvelous play, I have taken that spot 1/2 mile (actually 30 feet) away, went into Peets and claimed my cappuccino, and sat back in my car to watch the drama play out.
Thank you for enlivening an otherwise dull day.
Peace,
mangeorge
This image has me cracking up. It is quite amusing to watch those behemoth SUVs try to wiggle into parking spots. On street parking is the best. They block one lane of traffic for a good 2 minutes while they maneuver back and forth.
During the Christmas shopping season I love walking into a crowded parking lot, my keys dangling from my hand, and feeling the car wanting my spot cruising slooooowly behind me, as the music from Jaws plays in my head. Then I place my stuff in the trunk and head back into the mall for more.
I have a friend who claims that he likes to go to the mall during the holidays and walk towards cars as if he is getting in them. Then turn and wave at people waiting for “his” spot.
I doubt that he really does this, but he claims that on a bored Saturday afternoon it is good fun.
Damn, I hate Parking Lot Vultures…it’s irrational, I know; I also have a pet peeve that I don’t like people reading over my shoulder. Maybe there’s some sort of correlation…
I always park really, really far away. I approach parking lots from the back and snag the first empty one I see–it’s really not worth the hassle to drive around in that jungle to save fifteen meters.
But I do like to walk in the wrong lane to my car while the vultures circle around, waiting for that perfect spot. Then I do the “oh, there’s my car!” maneuver and cross over, leaving chaos in my wake.
I had a parking lot vulture following me over the weekend.
I called the po-po on him.
When last I saw him, he was out of his car explaining to the nice man with the gun and the handcuffs that he really just wanted my parking spot.
I don’t really care.
When it’s after dark and you’re driving a panel van, slooooooooooowly following a single woman on foot around the poorly-illuminated parking lot is not a winning strategy. This is particularly true when you have failed to turn your headlights on (even though it’s full dark). This is more exceptionally true when there have been numerous news reports over the last couple of weeks about some guy in a panel van abducting women from parking lots. Just walk the extra distance instead of scaring the crap out of the poor lady!
I’ll see you guys there. Looking back, I realize that this was a very dickish move, but I was younger and dumber and much more mischievious.
Anyway, my then girlfriend convinced me to take her shopping - at the mall - the weekend before christmas - on a Sunday afternoon.
After about an hour, I just couldn’t take the crowds or the lines or the stupid music or the people. I told her I would wait for her in the car or I was going to kill someone. She still had a couple more stores, but thought she could get in and out of those quicker solo anyway, so she went off by herself and I went out to my car.
Here comes the super dickish part. I sat in the driver’s seat, turned on the ignition to listen to the radio, then out of pure malice to the other shoppers, I put my gear select in R and set the parking brake.
This, of course, turned on my backup lights and convinced many people to stop and wait. I told myself that I was teaching people a lesson for blocking the lanes while waiting for a parking spot. But in reality, I was just annoying people for my own amusement.
I usually only made them wait for about 30 secs before I would shut off the back-up lights, but still, it was a dick move.
