Bump That

Story Submitted by Isaac:

Roseanne and I both lived in New York City, but in different neighborhoods.  We met online, and it progressed to a discussion about meeting in real life.  I offered to take the subway to her place, but she insisted on meeting closer to my neighborhood, and she said that she planned on driving.

Driving into my neighborhood is a dangerous game.  Street spots are a rare commodity, especially on a weekend night, which is when we planned to meet.  I advised her of this, but she insisted on meeting me in my area.  We arranged a time and I asked her to call me when she was close by.

Near our meeting time on the night of the date, I took a walk around my neighborhood to check for parking spots.  There weren't any.  All legal spots (and not a few illegal ones) were taken.

It was around this time that she called.  She said, "I'm having trouble with my car."  She gave me her location and I jogged a block over to find her parallel parking her Hyundai in an extremely tight spot between a Lexus and a Nissan.  She was banging on her steering wheel, and she wasn't happy.

I knocked on her window and she unlocked the doors.  I slipped in and she said, "I can't even get out of this spot, now!  I have no idea what this stupid car did!"

She put it into reverse and hit the Lexus behind us.  I asked, "Want me to try?"  She ignored that, shifted into drive, and instantly hit the Nissan in front of us.  In order for her to have become as stuck as she was, she had to have been trying to fit into the spot, no joke, for close to an hour.  And she was still over a foot away from the curb.

She said, "I know I can fit here."

"If you were dropped in from above," I said jokingly, but she was dead serious about this spot.  She moved her car backwards and forwards again, each time hitting a bumper.

She said, "Maybe if I give it a bit more gas, I can move one of those cars just enough to give me some extra space."

"I don't think that it'll work that way," I said, but she was already pressing her foot to the pedal.  We didn't move at all.  The smell of burning rubber wafted into the car.  I offered to exit and help to guide her into the spot, and she let me do that.

When I took a closer look, it seemed as though nothing short of a painstaking amount of work would be required to fidget into that spot.  Combined in the front and the back, she easily had less than an inch of space.

I told her this, and she said, "Can I just keep it like this?"

I said, "They might ticket it if you're this far away from the curb."

She replied, "Then I don't care how long it takes.  I'm going to get into this spot no matter what."

I suggested, "Why not leave it and circle the block to find another one?  I'll come with you."

"I don't give up," was her reply, and so I watched her shuffle her car back and forth for about five more minutes before I told her that it was becoming late.

"I'm almost in," she replied.  She was nowhere near it, and as she wasn't being reasonable, I didn't feel a need to stick around with her.

I said, "Why don't you call me when you get into the spot?"

She said, "You're not going to wait with me while I do this?"

I said, "I think you're wasting your time, trying to get in.  Try to get out and I guarantee that you'll find a spot even faster."

She said, "I found a spot," and kept moving back and forth.  I left and never saw her again.

The next morning, I walked past the parking spot, and a motorcycle was parked there.  The Nissan and Lexus were gone, but their bumpers must have been nicked and scratched all over.