Parking Woes Lead to Bus Envy

Friday, October 23, 2009

Page 15

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Parking Woes Lead to Bus Envy

By J’AMY PACHECO

I may have to move to the city.

If I made such a drastic change, it would not be for the restaurants and entertainment; nor would it have anything to do with making a commute easier.

If I move to the city, it will be so I can take the bus.

I’ve been driving for a long time. In fact, I bought my first car before I had a driver’s license. It’s not that I was anxious to hit the road—I had a job, and bought the car so my older sister could drive me to work.

I don’t enjoy driving as much as I did when I drove a 1977 MG Midget convertible. Those were good times. Driving today is more of a chore, and I do it because I have to.

I’m not anxious to become a bus rider. I rode a city bus while a tourist in San Jose a few weeks ago, and believe me, I wouldn’t care to repeat the experience. (I’m not a snob; my disdain is driven by a disturbing encounter between a standing male passenger and my teenaged daughter.)

So what would make me think about becoming a bus rider? Let me tell you.

I drive a regular sized car. It’s white, it’s clean, it has a Tinker Bell decal in the rear window and up-to-date license plates. There is nothing notable or even remotely interesting about my reliable, beloved Toyota.

But for reasons that defy explanation, my car is a magnet for people who drive gas-guzzling oversized vehicles. No matter where I park, I inevitably end up with one of those squeezed next to my car.

I’m not one of those people who drives around for half an hour looking for the closest parking spot. The opposite is true; when parking in a lot, I usually head for the furthest, least-populated region of the parking lot and walk.

But when I return, there will be two vehicles there—mine, and the behemoth parked right next to me.

Going to Disneyland is the worst. Disneyland wisely regiments its parking so that guests simply follow one another into adjacent parking spaces. I have no problem with the regimentation; I’m sure it’s very efficient.

But I almost always end up sandwiched between two enormous vehicles. They may be giant vans, or pickup trucks, or even Hummers, but you can bet that I’ll end up in between two of them.

The most annoying part about this is not that these vehicles end up crowding me, but that I can’t possibly see around them to back out. Once, I had to stop a passer-by and ask him to hold traffic while I backed out, because I couldn’t see what was coming.

That experience was so frustrating that now, if I can see I’m going to end up blinded, I’ll actually exit the parking lot, re-enter, and hope for better luck the second time. It adds a lot of time to the parking process, but it’s usually worth it.

Last year, a boy entering an enormous white pickup truck hit my car with his door in the school parking lot. He hit it hard enough to break the paint all the way down to the metal. The paint chipped off, and I’ve been driving around with a dime-sized spot of metal showing ever since.

I almost got it fixed over the summer, but stopped myself when I realized I had another year to go in that middle school parking lot. Besides, my car is old enough that the paint likely won’t match. I can’t rationalize having to have my entire car painted because a big truck made a small spot.

Getting stuck between giant vehicles happens so often that it’s become a joke with my friends. Going to exercise a few days ago, I parked alone in the lot’s South 40. I returned to find one other vehicle out there—a giant, extended cab pickup wedged so close to my car that I had trouble getting the door open. There were literally hundreds of empty spaces around us, but this idiot had to rub doorknobs with me.

A pal suggested that since I drive a Toyota, drivers of big cars see it as a small car and figure they’ll have extra space. The trouble is that it’s the biggest Toyota made, and it’s as big as any full-size car. There is no room for me to share.

Sometimes, it makes me so mad I want to wait for the other driver to ask, “Why?” But I’m not that confrontational. Most of the time, I try to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Really, what else can you do?

Besides move to the city, of course, and take a behemoth bus everywhere you go…