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The movie theater near my house has miniscule parking spots.

It's like they started with the section for compact cars and forgot to draw the line. It's almost expected to see suburbans and the like parked in two spaces, simply because it's virtually impossible to fit into one.

This is not the case with the parking spots at school.

Those suckers are huge. It's like someone drew a plan for the parking spaces and said, "Nahh, we'll never have that many people," and put two in the space for three.

I love it; it's so luxurious. I never have to re-park, because even if I'm slanted all diagonal, I'm still within the lines.

Then today I drive up after running an errand and there's a big black truck- the kind that probably beat up compact cars for their lunch money- skewed into a spot so that both left wheels were completely over the line.

This ticks me off. The truck had half a space free on the other side. He couldn't take two seconds to pull out and try again?

Now, I wasn't exactly in the mood to cater to big trucks' whims. So I sassily reversed Luna back and slid into that usurped spot, parking square in the middle and leaving him oh, six or seven inches to get into his car.

Let Houdini handle that.

Rawr. I am a vessel of vehicular vengeance.

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