My first car was an exceedingly ugly Plymouth with no power steering. In order to parallel park that sucker, I’d have to get out of the car, bend down and manually shove the tires to the curb. Not really, but the pull forward, back it up, tote that wheel, lift that barge action wore me out. Once parked, I never wanted to move it again. Unfortunately, I lived in Chicago, and we had to move our cars to the other side of the street every other day.
Power steering makes maneuvering an automobile much easier, but parking a car well is still an art form that few people have mastered. For instance, visualize this: A parking lot is almost empty. A Porsche and a BMW are parked at the far end of the lot with a space between them. What happens next? If it’s my choice, I will fill in the gap between those two expensive cars because:
If that space was good enough for two rich people, the spot in the middle is perfect for me.
At least one of those cars will shade my car and protect it from leaf blowers.
Expensive cars will be careful backing out.
A thief will prefer a BMW or Porsche to my 2004 Saturn, which General Motors doesn’t even make anymore (and, yes, I am very angry with them, but that’s another story.)
People who drive expensive cars won’t give my car a bump in order to make the parking space bigger. The only time drivers of expensive cars park next to me is at the grocery store, because they want to use my car as a shield against run away grocery carts.
Where you park your car matters! Even on a lunch break; funeral directors know not to park a hearse in front of a restaurant. I would rather walk a mile than give my car to a parking attendant. Usually, these attendants are 12 years old, and their job experience involves driving bumper cars at the county fair. On the rare occasions that I have turned my car over to one of these characters, they invariably lose my car. I guess the little old Saturn doesn’t leave the impression that I am a big tipper.
I don’t like parking next to trucks. First of all, when I am backing out, it’s difficult to see past their long rear ends, and often those drivers are scratchers, and don’t seem to mind leaving a little ding on the side of my car as a souvenir of our time together. Parking next to a wall or tree is good, unless you hit the wall or the tree attracts prune-eating birds.
Once you have parked your vehicle, it helps to make a mental note of where you leave it---“My car is parked in the 13th row, 25 spaces down from the school bus.” Of course, if you don’t remember if that was east or west of the school bus (which has already left) you can wander about looking miserable until eventually pushing the “someone is breaking into my car” panic button on your key chain. Everyone will know you have lost your car, and no one will call the police.
My mother used to say, “If you don’t have it in your head, you have to have it in your feet.”
Esther Blumenfeld (why do all cars look alike?)