My dad and I have driven to IKEA to get a few things. On the way there, I got a work call from my boss. I told him I would call him back when I parked up. While on the call, my dad said he would go on ahead, and I would catch up. 

After I finish my work call, my mom calls me.

Mom: “Where are you?”

Me: “In the parking lot, outside IKEA.”

Mom: “Your dad with you?”

Me: “No, he went on ahead. I’m about to go catch up with him.”

Mom: “He just called me. He’s lost. He couldn’t get through to you.”

Me: “Lost? The entire store is a one-way system.”

Mom: “This is your father. The man could get lost in a studio apartment.”

Me: *Sighs.* “That’s fair. Where is he?”

Mom: “I told him to find a couch and sit on it. Give it five minutes, and you should be able to find him by following the snoring…”

I go to a small, local church across the road from a larger, evangelical church. The other church has a mid-sized car park, which is open to the public (for a fee) Monday to Saturday. It’s free to park on Sundays, but there’s also a big sign saying “For Church Use Only.”

Because of where it is, our church doesn’t have a car park. Instead, we have an agreement with the church across the road to use theirs on Sunday mornings. (Most people walk to our church; there’s only about three of us who drive.) 

One Sunday morning, I’d just parked up and was walking across the road when an old man pulled up next to me in his car and wound the window down. Thinking he was lost, I bent down to speak to him.

Old Man: *Yelling.* “Are you going to [Big Church]?”

Me: “No, I’m going to [My Church].”

Old Man: “Well, you can’t park here then, this is… Wait, what did you say?”

Me: “I’m going to [My Church]. I’m…”

The old man interrupted me by throwing his hands up angrily and speeding away into the car park, muttering something I couldn’t hear. Clearly, I hadn’t given him the answer he wanted, and he just fancied bullying someone for his own feeling of self-righteousness.

I get that it must be really annoying when people ignore the signs, and you can’t find space in your own property, but d***, dude. Imagine if I were new to their church, how would that come across? Not very Christian of you.

My husband’s pride and joy is his classic car. He only drives it on Sundays, such as today, as we drive to the mall. We pull into the far edge of the parking lot, as usual, miles away from everyone else.

Me: “You know there are closer spaces, right?”

Husband: “And you know people can’t be trusted with doors.”

We both get out. A moment later, another classic car, actually, the SAME classic car (same model, same era) pulls in and parks a few spaces over. The driver gets out with his wife. My husband freezes.

The other guy clocks ours at the same time. They both start walking toward each other, already frowning.

Other Guy: “That’s my spot.”

Husband: “I always park here.”

Other Guy: “But that’s my spot.”

Husband: “Your spot? It’s a parking lot.”

Other Guy: “Yeah, and I picked this area first.”

Husband: “I’ve been using this spot for years.”

Other Guy: “Well, so have I.”

They’re now standing between the cars like they’re about to duel. The other wife and I exchange a long, tired look.

Other Guy: “You could’ve parked further down.”

Husband: “You could’ve parked further down.”

Other Guy: “So move it.”

Husband: “You move it.”

I step forward.

Me: “Oh my god! Men! You two just discovered another guy who’s into the exact same model of classic cars you’re obsessed with, and you’re choosing to argue over who gets a stupid parking spot when you could be MAKING FRIENDS!”

Both men look at me. Then at each other. Then at the cars.

Husband: “…What year is yours?”

Other Guy: “’72.”

Husband: “Mine’s a ’71.”

Other Guy: “No kidding.”

Husband: “Original engine?”

Other Guy: “Mostly. Had to rebuild the carb.”

Husband: “Same.”

They both laugh. Maybe that was a joke of some kind, I don’t know. What I do know is that five years later, they’re still meeting once a month for a Sunday drive together. I’ve become pretty good friends with the other wife, too, although we don’t share the same hyper-specific interests as our husbands!

I’m walking out of a store to my car out front. There is an SUV with two people waiting in the back seat. One appears to be an adult woman reading a magazine, and the other is a little girl of about nine years old. The girl is staring out the open side window and… seems to be daring herself to flip off strangers.

I notice it as I walk to my car. I think I see the child flipping me off in the corner of my eye. I turn my head and look at her, and she’s just sitting there watching me. So, I turn my attention to my car and then snap my head back at her. I caught her that time. I’m looking directly at her while she’s giving me the finger. She quickly puts down her hand, but I know what I saw.

I’m shaking my head and laughing at the situation as I get into my car. The girl has nervously sunk down in her seat, so only the part of her head from her eyes up is visible. She’s clearly watching me, worried I’ll get her in trouble.

Still laughing, I roll down my window and tell her, “Yep, I saw that.”

The girl then slid down lower until she was completely hidden from me.

Boredom and a young mind are a dangerous mix.

I went to the mall for a small errand, and since it’s the weekend, parking is scarce.

As I’m on the search for a spot, I see two spots pretty close, so I assume it’s my lucky day. As I get there, I see that a pick-up has managed to take up four spots at once.

If I had been in my work truck, I would have just moved on, but I happened to be in my super compact clown car that gets incredible gas mileage and will easily fit into what’s left of a space behind this truck.

I park and go in to do my thing, and as I walk out, I can see the owner walking around frustrated, and getting closer, I can see why.

Another tiny car had pulled up and upgraded my personal record, and blocked the truck from pulling out forward.

I chuckle as I put away my one item. As I start to get in my car, the guy throws his hands up at me and shakes his head, calling me some trash words, like it’s my fault he’s in this situation.

Just then, I realize I haven’t had lunch yet, and even though the food court lines are crazy long, a pretzel would really hit the spot.

So, I lock my car back up and start walking back inside.

At a distance, I see the guy get back out because he realized I left and starts to look around to try and measure if he can shimmy his truck out.

I order, eat, and take my time responding to a few texts and emails, but I quickly get bored and set out to leave about ten minutes later.

I see my new best friend still there, resigned to his fate. This time, no eye contact is made, but I can see him watching me through the corners of his eyes and in the mirrors as he reverses almost in sync with me, and we both get on with our day.