I am a good driver. I have been accident free for over twenty years.
This means that I have generally avoided scrapes and mishaps by sometimes a whisker. There but for the grace of, you know the rest.
The secret of my success? I have a great knack of anticipation that drifts into paranoia. Even writing this blog post makes my superstition alarm bells go off, as they would if I walked under a ladder. (which I’d never do, who wants a can of paint on the noggin?)
Ergo, shouldn’t I be the Roger Federer of parking given the years of practice? You would think so.
My favorite go-to, right rear wheel elevated jauntily ON the curb, my kids donning paper bags as they exit the car, passersby hissing.
I am always up for a challenge and often will tackle a small space with success. I feel an afterglow of pride for hours afterwards. I start to drive in an altruistic (for me) manner: allowing drivers the right of way, and actually stopping for pedestrians.
I do the same parking maneuver every time. Like a tennis stroke, however, there are an infinite number of variables. My mood, prevailing winds, etc.
I will follow the textbook procedure to the letter but, at some point I may or may not lose my bearings, panic setting in, depending on how many cars I am holding up.
That performance anxiety sets in. Another parking horror will emerge. Backing into a space also seems to be a challenge. (see pic) As I took the picture of the resulting atrocity, passersby commented on the crappiness of the parking. I nodded and allowed that yes, it was shite, and left out that I was documenting my own car! (I do have my pride)
Thanks for reading! Happy motoring!