Finding a parking spot right at the front of the mall just before Christmas

I’m a terrible parker.

Yes, I’m the guy who does a five-point turn to get into the spot and a twenty-second slow-mo reverse to get out. I’m the one bumping your bumper at the speed of sloth and the one craning my neck wildly to make sure our mirrors don’t smash when I pull up beside you.

Since I know my limits behind the wheel I usually head straight for the farthest parking spot in the lot. I’m fine parking under the dim lamp by the swampgrass because for me it means no parking stress and no parking problems. I’m alone in my empty parking zone, baby.

Now, when that mall’s busy and bumping it’s another story.

When those spots all fill up I’m a stressed-out incherupper, nervously crawling the lot like a giant tortoise slowly teetering into the forest to die. Yes, I foolishly follow people with bags only to watch as they toss them in the trunk and head back inside. I steer slowly past busy front doors and get caught in pedestrian traffic jams. I creep down entire aisles full of cars and get fooled over and over by Motorbike Mirages.

It’s pathetic.

But that’s what makes it so great when I suddenly find a free parking spot right near the front of the mall. That’s when the sun shines shooting beams of light at the tiny rectangular oasis of bumpy asphalt before me.

I signal quickly and clog up lanes as I fumble back and forth into the spot, screeching and scraping my tires with every turn. But once I’m there I hop right out and smile back to stare at the best parking spot in the lot.

AWESOME!