I’m going to a museum with my two cousins, grandmother, and daughter. My cousins are meeting us there. I manage to get into one of the few disabled spaces in front of the museum. I get out and help my daughter out. I have the car door open with the wheelchair ready to help my grandmother when a woman walks in front of the car and starts to rant.

Woman: “What a terrible person, taking up a disabled space rather than parking five minutes away. Disabled spaces aren’t the same as parent-child spaces, you know! I’m going to report you! It’s unfair that I had to park five minutes away and walk here, but you think you can break the rules!”

I just let her rant on. I then focused on my grandmother and started to help her out. I heard the woman go quiet as she watched my grandmother struggle to transfer from the car to the wheelchair even though it was a couple of steps. I shut the car and locked it up before walking past her. I’ve got to admit, I did look very smug.

For the record, I had a blue badge in the car to show that I am entitled to park there when my grandmother is in the car.

Related:
And What Happens When You Assume? Part 2
And What Happens When You Assume?
Remember What Happens When You Assume
What’s That Saying About What Happens When You Assume?
What Happens When You Assume

Several years ago, I was with my mother and children at a home improvement chain. I was driving around looking for a close parking space for my mother.

I noticed an elderly couple trying to get the tailgate open on their truck, and I could see that they were really struggling, so I parked in a spot and told my family to sit tight and I’d be right back.

Me: *To the couple* “Do you two need some help?”

Man: “The tailgate is not in great shape.”

I tried to get it down, but I couldn’t do it, either. Instead, I just grabbed the boxes of tiles they had purchased and gently set them down in the truck bed.

Man: “Those are heavy! Be careful not to hurt yourself.”

They were about fifty pounds each, and I was pretty small — 5’2” and 110 pounds.

Woman: “I’m sure she’s used to it since she works here.”

Me: *Smiling* “Oh, I don’t work here. I just saw that you needed help.”

She had this incredibly bewildered look on her face. She was speechless and just stared at me. Her husband thanked me, and I told them to have a great day and I went back to my car.

Normally, I’m kind and never act like an entitled customer, but this time, I just couldn’t help myself.

It was a sunny day, one of the hottest that summer, and my wife and I had been visiting a close-by city. We had our dog in the back of the car, and our car is black, so it gets hot very quickly in the sun. My wife asked me to drop her off at a shop to make a quick visit for something.

Me: “Okay. I’ll try to find a shady place to wait. Call me when you’re finished.”

There was a shady spot along the wall of another shop on the other side of the parking lot, but the area along the wall was marked with white lines meaning “no parking”. And the parking area itself had a four-hour limit.

I believed I could park the car in the shadow and wait for a few minutes without annoying anyone, so I parked the car, rolled the windows down, and stopped the engine.

After a couple of minutes, a young man exited the shop and went to a car parked near me. I realized my car was in his way, so I reversed a couple of meters. The man unlocked his car, looked at me, and walked over.

I could see by his clothes that he was some kind of manager in the shop.

Man: “You can’t park there!”

My goal was to remain in the shadow for a couple more minutes, so I decided to play a game: “How long can I stay?”

Me: “I can’t?”

Man: “No! Didn’t you see the markings?”

During the whole conversation, I was calm and smiling.

Me: “You see, I just want to remain in the shadows for a couple of minutes while my wife is shopping. I have a dog in my car, and it’s really hot.”

Man: “Doesn’t matter. You can’t park here.”

Me: “But shouldn’t the marking be yellow in that case?”

Man: “What?”

Me: “Normally, a no-stop zone is marked with yellow.”

Man: “Yes… But… Common sense should make you understand it’s no parking!”

Me: “May I ask, why is it not allowed to park here?”

Man: *Sighs* “There have been some minor accidents when cars parked in marked spots reversed into cars parked just here. That’s why we made that rule.”

Me: “Did you just end your shift at the store?”

He seemed surprised by my change of subject.

Man: “…ehhh, yes. Why?”

Me: “How long did you work?”

Now, he was getting agitated.

Man: “Six hours. Why are you asking?”

Me: “There’s only four-hour parking allowed here, you know.”

Man: “But I was working!”

Me: “Is it okay to bend the rules, then?”

Man: “YES!”

He was starting to get red in the face now.

Me: “Okay. Is it okay for me to park where there are no white markings?”

Man: “Yes!”

Me: “Okay, I will move the car.”

I started the engine, and the man turned around and walked to his car.

I moved the car three meters forward to be parked just outside the markings but close to the entrance. I stopped the engine and shouted:

Me: “OKAY HERE?”

He turned around, saw what I had done, and walked over again.

Man: “Are you kidding?”

Me: “You said I could park as long as there were no white markings…”

Man: “YOU CAN’T PARK HERE!”

Me: “No markings!”

He just looked at me for a couple of seconds.

Man: “You must be really stupid!”

As he said this, I spotted my wife coming out of the store and picking up her phone.

Me: “Actually, the opposite!”

The man gave me a blank stare.

Me: “During our conversation, I have been able to remain in the shadows long enough for my wife to finish shopping.”

My phone rang.

Me: “Thanks for a nice chat, and have a nice weekend!”

With a smile, I started the car and went to pick up my wife.

In my rear mirror, I could see when the man realized what I’d just done. He started shouting curses at me.

Mission accomplished: five minutes in the shadow.

I was at the grocery store a few years ago with my infant, whose car seat was located in the seat behind the driver. When I got back with my groceries, some jerk had parked their car so close to mine that I could barely squeeze through, let alone manage my way with my baby’s car seat.

I took down the license plate number and car information, went back into the store, and asked to speak to the manager. I said I was concerned because “the car had smoke coming out of its hood but no one was around.”

The manager put a call out on the intercom with the car information and the apparent fire under the hood. I went back outside and watched as a woman ran out like a bat outta Hell to check on her car.

Me: “Are you okay, ma’am?”

Woman: “I thought my car was on fire!”

Me: “Oh, how strange. Good thing it isn’t! Hey, while you’re here, mind moving your car so I can get to my side? You’re parked a little close.”

She was apologetic and did so — still fazed by the announcement, probably. I’d like to think that she realized later on that it was probably me who put in the fake announcement.

I am visiting a large downtown shopping mall with indoor parking over eight levels and for more than 1,500 cars. It is midday, and I decide to park on the top level — not something I usually do — and go and do some shopping. The parking garage is full and the mall is a zoo. It turns out that there is a regional cheerleader and dance competition in the adjacent convention center with over 1,500 participants today.

I get ready to leave and start driving down from level eight. At level seven, the line of cars comes to a complete stop. I sit in line for about fifteen minutes with no movement — not even one inch. Between me and the exit, there are probably more than 150 cars lined up.

Finally, I park and make my way down to the exit area on foot. I check the exit area, and there is not a single car going down the last ramp to the actual garage exit.

I go to the top of the last exit ramp and find that cars are completely ignoring the exit. I start trying to direct traffic to use the exit ramp — really, just turn right and you are out of there. But drivers look at me like I am an idiot and instead go straight, which leads to an up-ramp back into the garage.

Overhead at this point, there is a small sign that says, “Exit to the right,” but then I notice a different sign at eye level. It says, “LEVEL CLOSED,” in four-foot-high, bright red letters on a white background, and in small type below are the words, “CLOSED FOR PARKING” in black type on a blue background — really unreadable unless you look closely. While the bottom level IS closed for parking, that is still the way you need to go to get out of the garage — and regular users of this garage would know that.

That’s when I connect that the average driver here today is here for the competition, has never been in this garage, and is reading the wrong sign about where to go for the exit. I go over and knock down the “LEVEL CLOSED” sign, and then I am able to get cars to turn right.

One driver curses at me, thinking I work here.

Driver: “What the f***?! I’ve been driving in circles for the last hour and a half trying to get out!”

With that, I walked back up to my car, and the line to get out of the parking garage cleared up in about fifteen minutes.