Parking in Dallas shopping centers can be hell, especially when the temperature range approximates that particular location. Braving the heat to run a quick errand, the parking god was with me and I located a spot in front of the store.
Returning ten minutes later, my car was barely visible hidden between an oversized SUV and Hummer. There was barely enough room to open the door as I scrunched myself into the driver’s seat.
My Honda is an ordinary, middle aged car. I am willing to overlook a few minor shortcomings. I have made peace with its uncomfortable bucket seat and over time it reluctantly made peace with mine. The car understands in exchange for a loving home, it is to reciprocate by getting me to where I need to go. Thus far the agreement has worked out just fine.
My car does not have a rear view camera. I slowly backed out of the parking spot, unable to see oncoming traffic on either side. I felt relief as I slipped out of the tight situation without scraping the adjacent giant’s doors. Just as I was about to be home free, another oversized SUV waiting to grab my spot, was nose to nose with my car and would not move.
At that moment, I would have traded a month’s supply of vodka to morph into a transformer. Frantic gesturing and mouthing registered and they moved to allow me to pass. Parking karma struck swiftly as there was no way their vehicle was going to fit into the spot I vacated.
People who drive behemoth, gas guzzlers are increasing in numbers. Their sense of entitlement is offensive.
The only entitlement they deserve is to park in the remote hinterland of the shopping center.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.