parking

So this black girl reads posted about hunting for premium parking spots yesterday.

I'm definitely in one of the first two categories, lot laissez-faire or parking pragmatist. Whenever I find myself hunting for a close spot I think about how I have these perfectly functional legs that might not be so functional someday. When or if that happens, I'll hunt for a good parking spot. Until then, I'll hoof it from the back or the top level ... leaving the closer spaces for the not-so-mobile.

I do believe in parking karma, however. That finding a perfect space without trying indicates that the universe is telling you that you were meant to be in this place, at this time.

As primarily a street parker, however, I have to say that if I could chose a super power, I want the ability to shove cars that are rudely parked in the middle of two parking spaces out of the way to make room for my vehicle.

Many times I travel through my Mount Vernon neighborhood cursing my fellow residents who carelessly stopped their vehicles about a half-car's length away from the no-stopping sign at the end of the block, or some other misanthropic move. I fantasize about leaving notes on the dashboards of mean parkers and others praising the considerate ones.

Can you see me now, eyes clouding over like Storm, as I whirl around and create gusts of wind that gently-but-quickly realigns cars on the street? It would be so great.

The functional-legs consideration also comes into play when debating stairs-vs.-elevator. Some day, I may long for the time when I could dash up a flight of stairs because I can't.