Ever have one of those fits of rage?
You know the kind I mean. Not, "Gee, that's the second time this week Donna's put two sugars in my latte instead of one." I mean like "If that motherfucker even dares to make eye contact with me I'll bury a fucking ax in the side of his head."
Had one this morning.
So this is a special F-you to all the backer-uppers. It's Black-fucking-Friday and you wait 15 minutes for a parking spot -- only to hold up the rest of the paved artery while you whip it around and try to cruise in backwards. And while you're trying to navigate, I see a spot open up at the far end of the lane -- but I can't get to it because your dumb ass gets all mixed up in reverse.
OMG! Left becomes right! Right becomes left! What's happened to my steering wheel! It's bizarro land!
That means their car now has four feet of clearance on the passenger's side and four inches of clearance on the driver's side. So what do they do? Pull forward and try that shit again. Meanwhile, you could have already been in the store and gotten your shit and been done by the time you figure out the laws of parking lot physics.
And can someone out there explain to me what the purpose of backing into a spot is? "Well, this way I don't have to back up when I leave." But don't you have to back up anyway to get in? And isn't backing into a spot, between two monstrous SUV's, more challenging than backing out of it into an open lane?
I mean, unless you live on the entrance ramp to the expressway, pull your fucking car in and kill the ignition. Get your shit and get on with your life, stupid.
/rant. Carry on.