IT NEVER ENDSā¦. When people get behind the wheel, 92% of their brains refuse to get in the car with them.
So, Iām waitingāwaiting what feels like an eternityāfor this prime parking spot. Iām watching this person tediously load groceries in the back of their car, one bag at a time, like they contain highly explosive material. Naturally they leave the empty cart right next to the car beside them.
They finally get in their car, and now itās like everything is foreign. Hereās the ignition, hereās the headlight and turn signals, hereās the windshield wipers. Let me adjust the seat again, because you never know when these little fairies sneak into your car and mess with the seat position and mirrors while youāre shopping! Sunglasses! Gotta put those on!
Now theyāre making a call? WTF! What are they doing? refinancing their mortgage? Letās pull out already!
Finally they start backing out. And just as Iām about to claim my rightful placeāthis other guy, this Johnny-come-lately, rounds the corner, throws on his blinker like itās some kind of magic parking wand, and suddenly he thinks he has dibs!
No, no, no! Thatās not how this works! I was here first! The person waiting always has the right of way! This isnāt a game of āwho blinks firstāāitās first come, first park you sneaky bastard! Itās mine!
And whatās worse? This is probably the only time this guy has ever used his turn signal! Oh, now he knows how it works! The same guy who changes lanes like heās playing Mario Kart suddenly thinks the blinker is a binding legal document? GTFO with your blinker crap!
And now weāre locked in this awkward standoffāme, sitting there, gripping the wheel like a hostage negotiator, and him, looking at me like, āWell, I put my blinker on.ā Oh, congratulations! You also breathed today! Doesnāt mean you get my spot!
Iām inching closer. Heās shaking his head and wagging his finger as he moves closer. Suddenly it dawns on us both that whichever way grandpa backs out will determine who sneaks into this prime parking space at the last second. One of us is going to lose, unless we decide to trade paint over this.
But you know who the real winner is? Grandpa. Heās driving off, sipping his coffee, completely oblivious to the parking war he just left behind.
Do we really need to pick a number and wait, like at the deli counter????
Make it stop!!! This madness has to stop!