If you're like me, you hate getting "dings" in your vehicle.
To avoid the problem, whenever I pull into a parking lot, I generally park away from the "madding crowd" in a section of the pavement where little or no cars are parked.
Darn it all!
As I alight from the supermarket about ten minutes later, I find myself surrounded by a dozen or so cars nestled up - "this close" - to me.
One day, I was just about ready to step out of my car when a man almost crunched in the side of my vehicle as he tried to scoot in backwards next to me; in spite of the fact, the rest of the lot was practically empty!
What am I, an auto magnet?
What is this insanity?
I've also noticed that on a small side-street in West Hollywood there will be ample parking spots available farther up the street - but for some inexplicable reason - drivers are inclined to waste three or four minutes goin' backwards and forwards in a tedious effort to wrestle their way into a space in line with all the other vehicles.Are they afraid their car will get lonely up the street a-ways?
To reduce the probability of dings, I try to park next to a pole in the parking structure, so that only one side is exposed to another vehicle. And, in that event, I make a concerted effort to find a stall next to an expensive upscale late model car.
My reasoning here?
People with snazzy roadsters will probably be more careful when they park, and step gingerly from the interiors, to ensure they don't scratch the pristine paint job on their own luxury jalopies. Right?
But, then again, just because a person has an expensive car doesn't mean they are capable of parking it without incident, eh?
I've been thinking of inventing an inflatable device that pops into position around the circumference that - in essence - creates a two-foot rubber buffer around my SUV when it is parked.
With my luck, a porcupine will waddle by in my absence and prick it by mistake.
You just can't win!