Parking

       One of the unexpected benefits of having most businesses around here in strip malls is that the strip malls have parking lots. This might be obvious to those who already live in the suburbs, but to me, it means a whole new comfort in driving. 

       If I wanted to go to a shop or business downtown, or in the neighborhood near Tom’s office, I had to steel myself in advance for the whole parallel parking thing. This included the stress of looking for a place to park, worrying about being late for an appointment if I had to circle for too long looking for a place to park, getting into the parking spot efficiently if I did find a place (without holding up traffic and without hitting any cars), worrying that the meter would expire before I got back, and of course, worrying that I’d forget where I had parked the car (since the parking spot often was nowhere near my destination. 

       You can laugh all you want, but let’s face it. Down deep, everyone would prefer not to have to parallel park.

       I actually failed my first drivers’ test -- a great way to spend one’s 16th birthday -- because of a parallel parking “issue”. At least it was an issue to the person testing me.

       In my defense, I should say that this particular tester had a reputation for failing young drivers on nearly any pretext. It was well known that anyone assigned to her was likely to go home unhappy. But there was really no way out once I learned I was one of the unlucky victims who had to drive for her...

       And in fact, everything was fine until I was told to parallel park on a busy downtown street. When I backed into my spot, the car touched the curb. It was not anything hard or abrupt – nothing which shook the car or anything. I smoothly pulled forward and continued gliding into the spot. 

       But the nasty witch conducting the test said that if a child had been sitting on the curb, with his legs hanging down into the street, I might have hit said child and crushed said legs. 

       I replied that I thought it inappropriate and unnecessarily risky to even attempt to park in a place where a child was already sitting on a curb with his legs hanging in the street. I told her I would think it wiser to find another spot instead. And really, should a child even be allowed to sit unattended with his legs hanging into a busy downtown street? Where was his parent or guardian? 

        You can see, perhaps, why I became a lawyer. But the tester didn’t seem impressed. 

       When I re-took the test a few months later, I successfully parked without running over any imaginary legs. But my confidence had taken a blow. And it seems I have never quite recovered.

        In my new 'hood though, I can just drive up practically anywhere and with virtually no effort, pull into a parking spot, often remarkably close to the door of the business I wish to enter. And the parking spots here are huge. They appear to have been designed specifically for mini-vans and SUVS, all pulling a horse-trailer, and with room for obese people to comfortably open each and every door as far as the hinges will allow without fear of dinging the next car over. And frankly, there is so much space out here that there rarely even is a next car over.  You could probably park sideways -- across two or three spots -- and not even cause a raised eyebrow.

       The stress of parking is gone – entirely.

        I hate to say it, but I may never go downtown again.