The Dilemma Some People Have with Parking

Although we like to dish it out, true-blue Aussies are not too good at taking it. Some sites will warn you about what not to say to Aussies. For example, don’t say “put another shrimp on the barbie.” Also, don’t tell an Aussie that they are flip-flops or that Vegemite is gross. In this fair country, we have prawns on the barbie, not shrimp. Thongs may make a flip-flop sound, but you wouldn’t call a car a "brum-brum," would you?

Oh, and as for Vegemite, it is one of the health foods of this nation. It’s best enjoyed in moderation. Many tourists make the mistake of slathering it on toast like jam. It is a delicacy to be spread thinly to stimulate the taste buds, not kill them.

Mariah Carey toured Australia last week. During her concert, she made a big mistake—she tried Vegemite with a spoon. That's just not how it's done, darling!

I mean, how bad can it be if Miley Cyrus has a Vegemite jar tattooed on her bum? (Actually, I don’t know for sure it is on her bum, but it is somewhere!)

So why am I telling you all of this?

Well, the other day I was trying to come up with an appropriate sticker to keep in my car to put on the windshield of people who can’t park in the designated lines. It was probably spurred on by the day before, when someone couldn’t seem to get parked between the white lines.

This left me with about six inches to get into my car. What am I, a sardine, a contortionist, or both?

With a few notes ready (because that’s what grumpy old folks do), I’d be set to tackle all the bad parkers around.

I naturally Googled "Notes for Bad Parkers" and found some funny websites. They had hilarious notes left on car windscreens. It went on for pages!

Here are a couple I liked: the turtle drawing, and the explanatory note with a diagram.

They all seemed, well, too polite. What I needed was something to get them right between the eyes.

It reminded me of an event a couple of years ago when a tradie insisted on parking across two parking bays. He seemed to think it was his God-given right to park across two parking bays designed to fit two cars. There were only three parking bays, so if he occupied two, that left only one free.

I left a note on his windscreen explaining the subtleties of parking. He had obviously missed that lesson when he was getting his licence.

Like a cat, I waited with excitement for the moron to return. I kept looking out the window for him to return. Nothing!

I decided to give up. This activity was a total loss and screamed, “life of a loser.”

The next morning, he showed up as predicted, and true to form, there he was bang smack in the middle. I was about to let loose again at my new job as a parking policeman when his mate rolled up.

He paused beside his car, seemingly measuring the distance left in the only vacant spot. He was not happy. I sat, watching to see what would happen. His mate had to park up the street, on the next section of curbing. That’s a tradie's worst nightmare: walking a couple of meters to the job.

Then it happened.

As he walked by his car, he pulled out his widescreen blades and poured the last of his coffee on the window. Justice was served!

I didn't hear the conversation they must have had, but it must have done the trick. A few minutes later, the guy came out and moved his car, while his mate snuggled his car in beside him like two love birds.

Better than any sticker. Justice was served. To everyone parking in front of my place and ignoring the signs: I will have my stickers. So, just know that I’m watching you!

Till next time,

Calvin