Not all outdoor parking lots are created equal. Some are more fun than others. The Piggly Wiggly lot in Homewood is presided over by a giant, benevolent head of a Pig erected on a sign atop the building. Conversely, the public parking space servicing a wealthy suburban village is so jammed with mammoth SUV’s parked every which way and moving in all directions at once, that you pray in two languages before entering.
There are rules regardless of your taste in parking. Rule #1, you must shove your vehicle into the space closest to the entrance of your destination since exercise is harmful to body and soul, and if closest to the entrance is occupied, you must circle until that space presents itself. If avoiding exercise is not your concern, then you must follow Rule #2, requiring you to stuff your vehicle into the next open place closest to your destination, smack dab next to another car, or better yet, between two vehicles regardless of the availability of an acre of open spaces just yards away, squeezing in where you can barely open your door, but by golly, you followed Rule #2. Congratulations. When you return, check your vehicle for dents and war damage to your paint.
I recently discovered Rule #3. While parked in a neatly landscaped and expansive office outdoor parking lot, I smugly watched rules #1 and #2 robotically followed to the T. Which made me feel superior since I ALWAYS park as far away from other vehicles as I can. Sitting there feeling my oats, the sprinkling system came on out of the blue, gushing through my open windows into the car and onto me, an unsettling drenching. Rule #3, don’t park next to grass with your windows down. More ominously, there have been recent sightings of rabid roosters flying in formation through open car windows.