Home » In Which Some Ass Parks Poorly And Causes ME To Nearly Bust A Gasket

In Which Some Ass Parks Poorly And Causes ME To Nearly Bust A Gasket

The weather here as been stellar.  It’s like a pregnant woman’s dream:  nearly no humidity, sunny, just warm enough. . .

And my little guy is still snotty.  So we’ve been trying to spend time outdoors doing things that don’t get him too exhausted and away from things other children might touch so he doesn’t make others sick too.

Yesterday morning, I was also still feeling a bit sick so I did some chores and let Mac sleep a little longer than usual figuring he needed the rest.  This made for a later start.  So when it came time to plot our outing for the day, I settled on making a quick drive to Fells Point.  Maybe take a walk along the water there for a change of scenery and drop in at Amuse (a cool toy store) for some extra train tracks and components HIS FATHER err he might enjoy.

We had zero trouble parking.  Mac was perfectly behaved.  We snagged some train tracks and hit Kilwin’s for a small dark chocolate covered pretzel for Mac since he was being so kind and respectful (my two new toddler buzz words.  I’m desperate clearly).

The young guy behind the counter at Kilwin’s clearly knows his target market (pregnant lady with toddler), because as soon as we got our pretzel, he mentioned that all of their fudge was buy two slabs get one free.


Um yeah.

We left Kilwin’s with the $1.79 pretzel I intended to purchase and $20 worth of fudge I didn’t even know I NEEDED.

Mac munched happily on his pretzel shouting “Choc-eeeeee, Choc-eeeee!” as he raced around the benches at Thames and Broadway.  I stood looking at the water.

Could this day get much better?!

Why do I ponder such things?  I ALWAYS have to ruin it!!!!

We marched across the cobblestones back to our car, Mac’s face and hands, and my shirt slathered in chocolate.  We were doing good for time.

Still time to sneak in a quick lunch and nap before it got too late. . .Now, where are my keys?  


Bad park job

The picture doesn’t do it justice.  My car is on the right.  And some idiot has managed to wedge their Honda within mere inches of my driver’s side door!  Inches!!! 

My head feels like it’s about to explode.

Why?  Why would anyone park this close to the driver’s side door especially of another car?  Especially when parking was SO abundant?!

Holding Mac and our bags, I attempted to access the driver’s side door.  The spot was so tight, I couldn’t even walk between the cars without my hips rubbing against BOTH cars.  TIGHT.  I couldn’t walk smoothly either.  I had to WEDGE myself between the cars.


The door opened a few inches.

I began looking around for a camera crew.  Surely this was a set up.   I have to be on some hidden camera show, right?  Let’s watch a third trimester pregnant woman try to wedge herself and her toddler into a two-door convertible with this car parked 12 inches from her door.

But there’s nothing.

Still holding Mac, the backpack, and the big bag o’goodies, I circled to the passenger side.  I had enough room to get the door open on that side.  However, because it’s a two-door car and the car seat is positioned behind the passenger seat, I HAVE to put Mac into the car seat from the driver’s side.  You cannot access the child seat from the passenger’s side.

Ahh!  I could just back out and reposition my car so I can access things better.  No.  No you can’t, you idiot.  You can’t MOVE the car until you get the kid secured IN it.

And yet again, I feel sweat forming on my lip.  This jerk-off’s park job is ruining my day.  What the hell?  Why can’t people just be NORMAL?!  

I angrily settled on the stellar idea that if you can’t act NORMAL, I can’t respect your fucking car.

I heaved the backpack and the shopping bag on the back window of the car.  Still holding Mac, I marched back around to the driver’s side.  I opened the door as wide as it would go – Squeak, squeak, squeak against the other much newer car’s pristine paint job.  “Sorry asshole,” I muttered quietly.

And then I attempted to wedge Mac into the back seat.

Somehow his adorable melon head followed the rest of his body and he was in the car!

I however, with my protruding baby bump, could not get MYSELF into the car.

Mac stood in the backseat of the car happily licking his chocolate covered pretzel staring at me with some amusement.

“Hops in seat?  Click it or ticket?” He giggled.

“Yes, Sweet Smootchie Bear, Mommy will help you into the seat.  We’ll click up.  I promise.  Just hang tight.”  I cooed trying to remain calm.

I walked around the back of the car once again.

Maybe one more try?  At least you’ll get another very gratifying crack at his paint job this way.  I charged between the cars again this time opening the driver’s side door with even LESS care and finesse, if that’s possible.  Squeak, squeak, squeak.

I could get one thigh into the backseat.

Mac laughed smearing his chocolate covered hand all over my knee.

I shut the driver’s side door and walked around to the passenger side, opened up that door and peered inside.

If I slid the driver’s side seat as far back as it would go while simultaneously lifting Mac up, I might be able to crawl over the bucket seats, into the backseat, and get him in the car seat.

It took several attempts, two back spasms, and about 3 gallons of sweat but I to get myself into the backseat.  Once I had Mac secure, I had to figure out how to get myself OUT of the backseat.

Perhaps I could EXIT from the driver’s side avoiding having to crawl over the front seat and the stick shift, back out of the passenger’s side?  

I pushed the top portion of the seat forward so I could access the little lever to move the entire driver’s seat forward again.  Grabbed the door latch and this time, basically let the door rip.  SQUEAK!  SQUEAK!  SQUEAK!  Fuck you.  Fuck you.  Fuck you, you idiot, can’t park worth a gawddamn.

No dice.

I couldn’t exit the car in this manner either.

I sat beside Mac in the backseat gasping for breath.  Was that a contraction?

Once I composed myself a bit better, I attempted to right myself and make the crawl over the stick shift and towards the passenger seat.  I soon realized this manuever could not be accomplished with me in a front facing position.  So I somehow managed to turn myself backwards and BACK OUT of the passenger side door.

I stomped around the back of the car AGAIN and grabbed the backpack and shopping bag.  I angrily wedged them into the back of the car beside Mac.  Then I attempted to crawl back in the passenger side so I could once again straddle the gear shift and get in the driver’s seat.

Except the car seat was still the whole way towards the front of the car.  And I had wedged the shopping bag on the floor behind the seat.  I was lying across the passenger seat with my right arm under the driver’s seat attempting to move the seat backwards but it wasn’t budging.

My face had to be the brightest shade of red it’s ever been.  My eyes were tearing up.

While lying across the passenger’s seat I managed to get my left arm in the backseat and grab the shopping bag while I placed my right arm under the driver’s seat and grasped the lever to adjust the seat.  I gathered all my remaining strength and channeled every ounce of rage and simultaneously heaved the bag upwards while jamming the lever and shoving the seat backwards with my right forearm.

This did it.  The seat slid backwards so fast, I slammed my chin onto the housing for the emergency brake.  I could slash a bitch’s tires. . .

I crawled out of the passenger side door ass first again.  And then proceeded to crawl BACK in, this time leading with my left leg so I could wiggle my way into the driver’s seat in the appropriate position.

I made it into the driver’s seat, turned on the car, turned on the air conditioning and proceeded to leave over the passenger’s seat ONE MORE TIME to fully close the passenger’s side door.

And that’s when I noticed there was a MAN in the driver’s seat of the car parked on the passenger side of my vehicle.


He smiled at me when we made eye contact.

At first I felt a little bad that he had been stuck in his car witnessing my horrific gymnastics getting us in the car.

But then. . .You think this is funny?!  You’re obviously amused.  Screw you too buddy!  

It’s fortunate Mac was with me, otherwise, there’s little doubt I would have intentionally slammed into BOTH cars backing out of that spot.









4 Responses to “In Which Some Ass Parks Poorly And Causes ME To Nearly Bust A Gasket”

  1. I would have stood there in that beautiful weather and waited for the asshole to come out. I was out shopping with my 3 kids one time – toddler and twin babies in those baby bucket seats and some assmunch did the same thing to me. Parked a full tire-width over the parking space line into my parking space. I had to get someone from the store to come out and watch my kids while I crawled in from the passenger side and back out, then loaded my car up while I was in the middle of the aisle. I was so pissed.
    The Next Step recently posted…I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use itMy Profile

    • admin says:

      You’re situation sounds even worse! I don’t expect ‘special treatment’ because I have a kid (as I’m sure you do not either) but what are people thinking when they park that close to ANY car? Do people REALLY have that difficult of a time parking? REALLY?!

  2. Jennifer says:

    Omgosh! You have way more self control than I do! I would have gone all Fried Green Tomatoes on him!
    Jennifer recently posted…Moving OnMy Profile

    • admin says:

      Ha! My Mother-In-Law mentioned the same movie! I have never seen it. But she explained the scene you’re referencing. It was soooooo tempting. 🙂