Taking a deep breath, I slid into the driver’s seat and secured my seatbelt. With my hands firmly gripping the wheel at 10 and 2, I turned to the instructor beside me and confessed, “Yesterday, my mom, her friend, my boyfriend, and two of his pals spent the entire day trying to teach me how to parallel park. It’s just not happening. But I swear, if I pass this test, I’ll never attempt it again for the rest of my life.”
Not exactly the kind of declaration a driving instructor wants to hear, right? But honesty was my only option. I knew I could drive well in every other aspect except for this one. Regular parking? I could ace that. But when it came to maneuvering into a space sideways? Total chaos.
So, there I was, hoping for a miracle as I prepared to test my luck at the DMV. The instructor nodded—what did that even mean? My anxiety spiked. With everyone around me watching, I began the test. I signaled correctly, came to a full stop without jerking the car, and executed a three-point turn like a pro. As the end of the test approached, I braced myself for failure.
“Back up. Turn the wheel. Straighten out. Stop. Good.” At least, I think that’s what he said. I was too busy trying to comprehend the steps to notice that I had actually passed.
Thirteen years of driving later, I can say I’ve attempted to parallel park less than five times—and that’s not counting any successful attempts. Honestly, I avoid it like the plague. When a friend excitedly called to say he had saved a spot right outside his apartment, I was thrilled—until I realized it was a parallel space. I waved him off and drove a mile to find a parking garage instead. Totally worth the 20-minute walk.
Searching for street parking is a waste of gas and contributes to road congestion, so I like to think I’m doing my part for the environment by steering clear of it. When I do attempt to parallel park, it seems like an audience always gathers. Why? It only adds to the pressure. I once tried to slide into a spot outside a restaurant, and after several attempts, I got applause from the outdoor diners. They clapped for my struggle. I took a bow; I mean, I deserved it.
I have no shame in admitting that parallel parking is not my forte. I’m all in for whatever self-driving or flying cars become accessible. The only requirement? They must be able to parallel park for me. I could care less about fuel efficiency; I just want to park without anxiety.
In conclusion, let me live my life in peace without the stress of parallel parking, so I can maintain some dignity. Pretty please.
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