In defense of the Beemer lady, let me tell you a (short)story.
Many years ago, 1969 to be exact, my father bought a brand new car. His first ever brand new car. A Dodge Charger R/T SE, 440ci, 4 bbl, and oh, so wonderful to drive. For those who don’t know the classic cars, tough. For those who do, this car was a beaut. Metallic green body, leather blacktop, pinstripe along the running board.
Got my first speeding ticket in it, too. Uh, never mind.
Ahem. Anyway! My father babied this car, took exceptional care with it, made every maintenance appointment early, maintained a log with oil, filter, belt, tire changes, all parts replaced. You get the picture by now, right? So, when my dad parked in a public parking lot, or even at work, he picked a spot way out in the great beyond where no other cars lurked. He preferred the walk, and all the grousing in the world from the rest of us fell on determinedly deaf ears. Did this save his precious from the dings and arrows of outrageous inconsiderate drivers? NO.
Invariably, we’d return to find my dad’s beloved MOPAR surrounded by cars. Literally. Picture it: a slew of cars all around the store entrance, then a wide open field of nothin’, then…my dad’s car now safely cocooned in the furthest reaches of civilation’s parking oasis. My father has a theory about this; he calls this the Herd Instinct[sup]TM[/sup]. I’ve seen this in action many a time. He was right.
So, to make a long story…I sympathize with the Beemer lady. To an extent. If you have a nice car, don’t you want to take care of it? Let me ask you this: how often do you see the drivers of those behemoth SUV’s(the really big ones) parking in so-called compact spaces? All the time, right? How often do you see cars haphazardly parked incorrectly in a spot? All the time, right? So, I suggest you cut the lady some slack, give her an opportunity to show a little sense and pick the great beyond for her special extra spot, and see what happens.
If that fails, give her hell.