People that park in the fire lanes in front of stores baffle me. When it’s an SUV, it looks especially conspicuous, for I think of them as being owned by outdoorsy people who want to hike in wild and remote places. I mean, is that big-ass Hummer parked illegally in front of the supermarket because the owner is too lazy to walk from a designated parking place?
I always have an urge to yell, “EXCUSE ME!!! EXCUSE ME!!! (in Suzanne Sugarbaker imitation) I’m doing a survey and wonder if you would mind telling me why you feel the rules don’t apply here.”
Could be anything, I suppose: “I have only five minutes more to live and I want to buy that black dress I saw last week for my wake!” or “Bathroom emergency! Any farther away and I’d leave a trail. ” “My pants are on fire and I need to borrow their extinguisher.”
There COULD be valid reasons.
I’m reluctant to ask, though. With people packing heat just to go to Starbucks, I’d probably ask someone who was stopping for his third six-pack on his way to a gun show. Better to be left in the dark.
Last week, in the small parking lot at our neighborhood library, where the spaces are clearly marked for perpendicular parking, someone had pulled in sideways, taking up all three marked Handicap spaces. No sign of a Handicap tag hanging from the mirror or on the license plate.
As I walked up the front sidewalk to go inside, I noticed the Vanity Plate on the front of the car. (Oh, to have had my camera!) One word:
Ahhhh. I suppose that would explain it.
Permission from God.