Parking Lots

I. Hate. Them.

Not only has my car gotten hit three times while parked, but you practically get hit every time you're in a parking lot! I'm not kidding you. No one looks where they're going when they back up. And then you've got children running around, because their parents don't have them on leashes, and they like to be right behind your car. And then there's some kind of parade of clowns that take their sweet old time walking behind your car, and you can never, ever get out of your parking spot.

Ok, that clown part hasn't happened to me. But I wouldn't doubt it if it happened tomorrow. I have a funny way of predicting the future.

Anyway, another reason why I hate parking lots, despite the fact that I don't want to have my car in the shop for body repair anymore, is phantom parkers. You know. The ones that pull so far into the parking place, that when the parking lot is crowded, you get really excited because you found that perfect spot, and it's usually really close to the building, and then you pull up, and you're about to turn in, and you find a car. Most likely it's a tiny fuel-efficient car that is so small, it can't take up the whole parking spot anyway, but you still get mad.

Not to mention, parking lots are always full. Especially when you're in a hurry, or when you're running late. Like on the few days a year I'm actually running later than usual for class, I can never find a parking spot. And then I have to park all the way across campus and basically run just to make it on time.

One more thing I dislike is when motorcycles or mopeds take up an entire spot to themselves. Come on, now. Your moped needs to take hospice in an entire parking spot all by itself? It's a moped, for crying out loud! Park it on the sidewalk.

Anyway, this brings me to the conclusion that maybe I should just walk everywhere, and then I won't have to worry about parking lots. Except when I have to walk through one, and I'm that parading person holding everyone up and trying not to get backed into.