I suck at parallel parking.
Honestly, just look at me out there: tire-scraping,
curbbumping , seven-point turning in the middle of the busy downtown street. Yes, that’s why I always breathe a
massive sigh of relief when someone stops by to lend me a hand:
1. Airport Crew Chief. Strap a neon vest and giant earmuffs on this gal because she’s straight off the landing strip. If you’re lucky she’ll stand in your side mirror and use that beautiful two-hands-gettingcloser-together technique.
2. The Extremist. Dude’s an extreme screamer with no middle ground. Some of his favorite lines are: “Back back back back back ba—STOP!,” “Whoa. Whoa! WhoawhoawhoaWHOAWHOOOAH!,” and “Lots of space lots of space lots of—you’re on the curb.”
3. Mr. Measures. This guy’s straight outta the classroom and all about the accuracy. He’ll be dusting chalk off his hands while inspecting your bumper and calling out, “You’ve still got four inches.”
We sure do love these kind sidewalk souls. Without their help we’d be craning our necks and twisting our spines so it’s great when they pop on by to help us pop on in.