If you can't beat 'em

Mark my words - my next car will be a giant SUV. I realize that I'll never be able to scrape ice from the windshield because my stubby legs aren't long enough to allow my stubby arms to reach the windshield. I also realize that I'll irreparably harm the environment every time I crank up the engine. And, yes, I fully realize that I'll have to spend approximately the gross national product of Sweden to fill up the tank. I don't care.

Why am I willing to do all of these things? Well, because I can't back out of a parking space or make a right turn without endangering my life any more. You see, I drive a 2-door Honda. It's cute, it's just my size, it has a tiny turning radius, and it gets great gas mileage. The only thing it doesn't do is allow me to see around, over, or under the hulking behemoths that clog up the Target and Kroger parking lots and left-turn lanes.

Mini-vans, SUVs, and pick-up trucks have become the scourge of my existence. No matter what I do, I end up next to one in a parking lot, forcing me to put my car in reverse, say a silent prayer, and back out slowly, hoping that the hulking behemoth that's coming down the row will see the speck that I am and hit the brakes in time to stop the forward momentum of a thousand tons of steel before crushing me like a bug. Or, I have to sit and wait for all of humanity to come to a stop so the freak of automotive nature can make a left turn, because short of pulling into oncoming traffic, there's no way for me to know that I can make my right turn.

Yesterday, I came out of a store and there was my little car, by itself, no behemoths in sight. Gleefully, I trotted over, anxious to back out with a clear view of everything around me. As I got in and shut the door, I looked in the rearview mirror and there it was - the world's largest red pick-up backing up to squeeze into the space next to my driver's door. So close, I thought, so close to backing up without taking my life into my own hands. And, to add insult to injury, I had to wait for the jackass to completely block out the sun before I could even start moving.

At least he parked straight. I firmly believe that if you're going to insist on driving an enormous vehicle, you should have to pass a parking test before you're allowed to take it home. Just because your car is the size of your house doesn't mean that you get to take up 2, 3, or 4 other parking spaces. And here's a hint - if the sign says, "compact car," that ain't you!

So, I'm throwing in the towel. If I ever get a job, I'm buying the world's biggest SUV and I'm going to park it diagonally wherever I damn well please.