The Joys of Parking - Chapter 33

Coming back from lunch yesterday, the entertaining Salvadorean painters transforming the pink house next door into a bland cream color where about to take a lunch break as I spotted the perfect spot in front of my house. With at least seven inches to spare between my car and the one behind me, they suddenly decided they needed to direct me. I was having no problems, was at no risk of touching the car behind me and showed no signs of wanting help. I can think of few things more useless than the sign language intended to help with parallel parking. It's not a skill that comes naturally to me, but I've improved significantly over the past decade -- provided I can do it uninterupted by someone giving either verbal or visual directions. It requires silence and no distractions. Regardless, I got the car in without an effort, never making eye contact with the painters.