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Monday, November 27, 2006

Baby, you can drive my car

I had to go to Central Library today. I always park on Fifth Street in front of the library. Always.

But since my car is still in the shop, I drove the rental Caddy, which is roughly 33 feet longer than my usual vehicle. Also, I remind you that before Saturday, I had never driven an automatic, and I surely had never parallel parked one. So I planned to see if there were two spaces in a row, but, failing that, I was going to drive around the library and park in that garage on the back.

And then I remembered: I, Esbee, am The World's! Best! Parallel Parker!

So when I saw a space right out front, a single space, I went for it. And, given my skill, my intrinsic parallel parking prowess, it was no surprise to me when the Caddy slid into that space like Cinderella's foot into the slipper. Bam! Like it belonged, man! Like it was, you know, being driven by The World's! Best! Parallel Parker!

Nor was I surprised that a pedestrian stopped to watch, then walked to the place on the sidewalk just next to the car and bent down to look through the passenger window at the marvelous, magical being who had pulled off that superb parking job. I don't blame him. It's not every day people get to see you-know-who, much less driving a big ole Caddy.

When I got out of the car, I smiled to a few people who were standing on the sidewalk, seemingly watching my every move. Really, who can blame them? Some even looked like they'd been stopped in their tracks by my stunning steering maneuvers.

To get to the sidewalk myself, I walked around the back of the car so I could surreptitiously glance down as I walked past the car and see just how perfectly aligned the wheels were.



When I saw that my wheels were indeed perfectly aligned RIGHT UP ON THE CURB, the watchfulness of the pedestrians seemed perhaps a little different. Poo.
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