The K-turner

Yesterday I was parked in the lot around the Target shopping area. It’s a strip mall which neighbors two additional strip malls, all of which surround the Rockaway Mall. It’s a lot of mall for one, former swampland area.

I was about to pull out of my space in this cramped parking lot. When I say this, you have to understand what I was doing when I say, “I was about to pull out of my space.”

– My car was in reverse, so the reverse lights were on. They’re also not a crazy new color that might confuse anyone; they’re white. Bright, white lights on the rear of the car. It’s a KIA, so it’s also not especially low to the ground.
– My head was craned around the seat, my face pointed toward the rear windshield. My am was textbook-wrapped around the adjacent seat, allowing me maximum visibility in my reversing.
– My foot was firmly placed on the brake pedal, to ensure I don’t accidentally slide out of the space and pull into oncoming parking lot traffic.

It’s a good thing I allowed for maximum visibility, too, since three different cars whizzed by the small area going at least fifteen miles per hour. It’s not that fast, unless you’re standing still.

Being satisfied that no other cars were coming, I inched my way out of the space. Suddenly, a silver four-door sedan rolls up to my space. I assumed the driver is interested in my spot. Understandable, given it was in enviable proximity to any number of adjacent stores.


She continued to pull up to my car, as though she had “the sight” which allowed her to see into the future and view a parking spot that was no longer occupied by my vehicle. Unfortunately for the both of us, I (and more importantly, my car) was in the present, still trying to leave the space.

I slammed on the brake, yet she continued to slide up behind my car, its rear lights reflecting off her shiny new car.

It was at this moment that my idea for a “rear horn” would have come in quite handy. More often, I find people behind me are bigger assholes than the ones in front. Hence, a rear horn to alert them that I’m watching them, too. But I digress.

I slam on my regular, front horn, which does manage to get the attention of everyone in the general vicinity.

This included the driver behind me. She looked confused. Upset. Frazzled. Her face revealed confusion– as though to say: “What happened in front of that KIA to make its driver lose control like that?”

She then (get this), put her car into reverse, and backed into a parking space in the row behind mine. She wanted to face out of her parking spot, so she K-turned into my already-moving car.

There was no collision. No one was injured, and our cars were left unscathed. But this driver, this teenage girl (I could see her, now) had no idea what was wrong with what she had done, nor did she even remotely realize how close she came to just sliding right into my car. None.

She finished her conversation on her cell phone and hung up as I finally pulled out of my space, enraged. I rolled down the window, completely unsure of my next move. I had no plan. And I couldn’t just tell her to go to SMBFC.Net and read what happened, since no one would stick around for a verbal thrashing that outlined what they did wrong, point-by-point.

She saw that I rolled down my window. She knew, now, that I was honking at her. She looked confused, maybe even a little concerned. But she saw youth in my face, and didn’t seem worried enough to get the mace. I cleared my throat and simply said:

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

She had no retort. No answer. She had no idea why a stranger questioned her sanity, as she was simply going to the store. I sped off, well over fifteen miles per hour, and went to my next destination.

I don’t intend on cluttering my hatred for outstandingly stupid people here, with my hatred for all drivers in America, but this was an especially memorable/recent case. I also think it really doesn’t qualify as a regular, “This guy on the road…” story, since it takes place in a parking lot.

~ by Crivelliman on February 26, 2009.

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