I have a theory:
Even if I park my car in the outermost reaches of a parking lot — in that secluded space at the end of a row so far away from civilization that logically, no one else in their right mind would ever want to park there when there is a plethora of other perfectly acceptable parking spots to choose from — someone will still decide to park their hulking, beat-up wreck of a car directly beside me.
So close to me, in fact, that I am compelled to question their mental capacity (just how many brain cells are they missing?), their eyesight (did they not see the freshly painted, brilliantly white line disappear under their car when they pulled into the space?), and their general road-worthyness (if they don't realize that ten centimeters is not an acceptable distance to leave between two parked vehicles, how much space do they consider appropriate while merging onto the freeway?)
After realizing that the situation leaves me no choice but to get in on the passenger side, battling with the sharp twigs of the bush on the other side of the parking space in the process, I feel compelled to write a highly descriptive assessment of this person's parking abilities in angry black block letters and pin it under their windshield wiper.
Would this be wrong?
