128. Parking 101


This is ridiculous that I’m writing about how to park a car, but since I can’t park a car at all now I have plenty of oppty to evaluate the performance of others, so here we go.  In case you’ve never been a passenger with me let me give some context:  When I left my first job I stopped by the parking garage office on Pennsylvania Avenue to drop off some treats for the guys (they were all guys) since they helped me out.  They were used to seeing me in a moving vehicle so when I first walked into the office they looked at me a little blankly.  But then I was like, “I’m the girl who drives the blank Honda who can’t park.”  Ooooooh – they all chorused.  They knew me immediately.

I still can’t park, but now I understand it better.  The attributes to be concerned with are (1) Form, e.g. are you in the lines, and (2) Legality, e.g. are you in a handicapped spot w/out being disabled and having the proper tags, have you checked the signs to make sure you’re not in a snow route?

In the picture above, we all want to be in quadrant 1: the parking sweet spot.  When I could drive I must confess I was often in Q4:  parked legally, but probably not very well.  I blame my lack of depth perception.  Yeah.  Let’s go with that.

Also, just so you know, I have seriously considered starting an Instagram feed with pictures of people illegally parked in handicapped spots.  Before you do it, just remember that someone else might need that spot more than you.  Same goes for the spots shopping centers reserve for Expecting Mothers or Moms with Little Kids.  You do NOT want to be on my fictional Instagram feed.  And FYI, that diagonal-lined box next to a handicapped spot isn’t a place to park your mini/motorbike/golf cart.  It’s for people in wheelchairs to get in and out of their van.  It’s also very helpful to me to have some extra space to get in and out of a car since my balance is not good and I like to open the door as wide as possible but have a mortal fear of dinging the car next to me.  So please don’t park in this non-spot, either.


Mom and Ai Ai have had to stop me from getting out of the car to “talk” to illegal parkers, even though I insist I’m going to be polite.  My unfiltered state is extremely intolerant of poor behavior like this.  But if you know what I was like pre-injury, you can go ahead and laugh at the idea of me initiating a confrontational conversation like this.  Maybe the passive-aggressive Instagram feed is the way to go after all.

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15 thoughts on “128. Parking 101

  1. Ha haaaaa!! Ning, this post cracked me up!! I think you should GO with the Instagram feed, girl! 🙂 Ha haa…
    Also, I love that you made friends with the parking attendants at your first job, and gave them treats when you left. Somehow that doesn’t surprise me at all. 🙂 I love it.

  2. Your passive-aggressiveI comment reminded me of a funny story about our mutual friend RL (used to be RK) who lives in Virginia trying to be forceful with me. We were at the Seabrook conference (probably the first or second time I ever went) sitting in the chapel and she was commenting on the weather and noting how beautiful it was on the beach. I hadn’t been on the beach yet and she looked at me and said in a slightly demanding tone (I’m paraphrasing here because I don’t remember her exact words) “You know, you should go out to the beach and enjoy the weather. In fact I insist on it. I’m going to force you to go.” And then there was a lengthy pause after which she added ” .. but only if you want to.”

    So that’s my story of RL getting up in my face and being all forceful with me. It makes me laugh every time I think about it because it explains her in a nutshell. RL, if you’re reading this, you know I love you.

    • Remember the time we were going to dinner w E (my twin) and she saw a parking spot on the street being vacated? She told me she needed me to lean out the window and “be aggressive” – I think you took care of it for me 🙂

  3. Ning Girl, This is a hilarious post!

    You’d have to know how to park if you grew up in New Jersey! We lived right outside New York City on a main street(sans garage), and a driveway was a foreign concept! We always had to park on the street – My mom made me go to driving school, though, and we had to parallel park like that on the second lesson! : ) I can’t remember the many times my dad thought I’d side swipe someone, but I attribute that to “drive it like you stole it” Jersey style.

    The bus parking lot is full of bad parkers where I commute from. Instagram would be hilarious!

    Love to you!


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