Parking Wars Episode IV: No Hope Whatsoever

By Mike Hytner on November 19, 2013 in Other

Photo: sags.deviantart.com

Clearly I had gotten under this person’s skin, albeit rather unjustly, since I had actually parked conscientiously and it was other cars around me, since departed, that had made me look bad. But whatever, that’s not the point. The issue of parking is a tired and well-worn story and, much like the seemingly never-ending series of Star Wars films that I have referenced in the title of this article, one that doesn’t look like it’s going away any time soon. That the issuing of the printed-out note was a pre-meditated act reveals that it is a long-standing – and niggling – problem.

At the time, slightly narked at the unfair accusation, I cursed the faceless parking fascist and vowed never to become one of those people (if there is indeed more than one) who feels the need to carry a wad of reprimanding notes in their wallet/handbag at all times just in case some thoughtless parking gets my goat. I mean, get a life.

That was then. Now, two years down the track, I totally get it. Why? Because I no longer have the good fortune to hold a reserved parking space and, presumably like my friend trawling the road near the beach, I am forced to battle it out on the street with the other 3,000 motorists who are all apparently vying for the ten spaces available within a 30-minute hike of my front door. Lugging fistfuls of shopping bags and a small child five kilometres from car to house is not a pleasant experience, but one that could be ameliorated with a bit more awareness from others.

Inconsiderate parking seems to be all the rage on my street at the moment. Four-wheel drives are more often than not the worst culprits, their on-trend owners seemingly unaware of the exact dimensions of their cars. But it’s not just the urban tractors; small and medium-sized cars, utes, trucks, saloons – they’re all at it. Something weird seems to happen to these people once they step inside their cars. Their capacity to think of others outside of their own little world rapidly evaporates – screw everyone else, as long as the Land Rover is parked up where I want it.

This selfish attitude was highlighted once more – as if it needed to be – just the other day on a main street in Randwick when the driver of an irresponsibly parked saloon that had taken up two spaces flatly refused to inch up half a metre into the gaping two-metre space in front of him so that I could slip in behind. When challenged about why he wouldn’t move, he simply shook his head, mumbled “no”, got out of his car and went to get a coffee. Unbelievable.

I was so incensed I could have thumped him. I could’ve even slapped a pre-typed note on his windscreen. I know I said I’d never consider doing such a thing, but I also once promised I’d never become a whingeing Pom. And look how that has turned out for me.