You pull into the parking lot with a frown stamped across your face.
To your left are a sea of cars swimming in the lot like sardines swimming in a can, and to your right is a very lovable albeit particular person – your spouse, the parking Nazi.
You couldn’t have known it at first.
You shouldn’t have known it at first.
After all, everyone hides their beliefs.
There were no funny-looking flags, no funnier-looking mustaches, and certainly no mangled, wrangled, wild speeches.
She just had an easy smile hiding behind those icy blue eyes.
But one day, the moment you dared park your car away from the store’s entrance, you saw the parking Nazi erupt, and it made Mt. Vesuvius look like a middle school pimple.
You take one last look at the mess of it all and gulp.
You hate shopping, and days like today remind you why.
If you’re not familiar, the parking lot Nazi is someone who’s downright damn particular about their parking spot. To a parking Nazi, parking spots are like grades on report card day. The closer to the store you park, you get an A and, and the further away, an F criticism – A grocery cart’s worth of it.
You shake your head and frown at the sight of it all.
To your left is a valley of open parking spots, just waiting for you to roll in, but it may as well be a mirage because heavens know you ain’t parking there. You’ll never hear the end of it.
“Go see if you can get us a good spot,” barks the parking Nazi.
Good. What a malleable, worthless word.
Parking and going into the store would have been good. Finding a twenty on the way in would have been good. But spending 15 minutes on an activity that takes 15 seconds is anything but good.
It’s just plain stupid.
You immediately pull down an aisle and are greeted by a couple who were born apparently without the concept of spatial awareness.
How free they must be.
They lazily stroll down the center of the aisle, holding hands as if they were in Central Park and you were some pissed-off hotdog vendor passing by.
“Come on, move faster!” the parking Nazi erupts.
You grip the steering wheel and wish it was your neck.
After a minute of tense silence, you hear: “Look, there’s a spot!”
Joy.
Oh, how I’ve missed you.
For a moment, only for a moment, you feel the sparkle of hope slowly start rising in your chest, but as you inch closer, you see it for what it truly is: a small car sandwiched between two bigger cars.
Desperation never looked so tiny.
“It’s fine, let’s keep looking.”
You venture deeper into the parking lot, passing row after row of car after car. You’re at your breaking point, so feeling desperate, you take a shot.
“Hey babe, we could just park here!” You point to the wide-open parking way in the back.
The parking Nazi’s face pinches as if she just ate a lemon.
“No! Let’s get a better spot.”
You’re shot down but still flying.
“You know we could just park and go shopping.”
“No, it’s all about a good spot.”
“I thought it was about shopping, right?”
“You don’t get it.”
And for once, she’s right.
You don’t get it, and hope you never will.
Life marches on.
You make a right and go down an aisle and see one cart boy corralling a parade of carts like he was a cowboy on the Oregon Trail. Silently, you wonder what it would be like to be him. Because at least with him, he has freedom and is not stuck driving in the weight of expectations. You even begin to wonder if you laid down, if he would run you over but the parking nazi snaps you out of the fantasy.
“Why would anyone be shopping today?!” the parking Nazi cries, unaware that we, too, are contributing to the parking problem.
“Beats me.”
Five more minutes pass like molasses with bumper-to-bumper disappointment.
When finally, the heavens cast down a golden ray of light: A minivan slowly backs up near the front of the store. “There’s our spot, there!” She turns to you.
“You see, babe, everything comes with good timing.”
You try not to choke.
You furrow your brow and press the hammer down. Come hell or high water, you’re taking that damn spot. The red lights of the van burn bright as it backs its way up.
“Almost there.”
And finally, the van pulls off into the minivan sunset or wherever the hell minivans go.
You race in tires squealing and throw the car in park.
Then, breathing heavily, you look up and see it for what it is.
The handicapped spot.
“We can’t park here!” she blurts.
“Well… they haven’t met you.”
Please like, comment, share and tell me what you think. Have you ever met a parking lot nazi?
Disabled spots are great (the reason I need them is not.) They usually are really good spots.
Agreed – my dad uses them, they’re a lifesaver for him. Thank you so much for reading my friend
It is a shame when selfish people grab them.
It is.
Hilarious!! How did I know it was a handicap spot!😂😂😂 This is why I try to shop early in the mornings or on week days.🤷🏽♀️😂
Hahah so happy you enjoyed – you have a good comedic mind that’s why!
wOW! I’m actually the person looking for a spot in the back, away from the entrance. Or I shop really early on Saturday mornings or have my groceries delivered. 🤣😆😂
I’m the same way – way in the back away from everyone who can scratch my car
Exactly! Away from everyone who wants to stop and chit-chat when you really just need to run into the store really quickly and get in and get out before the crowds pack in! 🤣😆😂
Same here. And I count the extra steps on my Fitbit
Hilarious. I see many men drop their wife at the door and head out to a glorious parking spot far, far away.
That’s honestly the way to do it! Will be adopting
Hilarious 😂 and actually it happens
Life is the funniest thing!
I’m so happy to live in a small town. Mind you four weeks in the summer those Nazis invade us so I better prep.
Summer parking War! My parking nazi storms in mainly Sunday /Monday at the grocery store – prime time parking
One reason to love public transport but the nazi stormtrooper finds their way there too
Exactly!
I can understand this. I am not a parking Nazi, as I hope my husband would confirm…but my sister! (Pulls out own hair) If someone wants to turn shopping into a nightmare then they should be driving. Made me laugh though. Thank you.
So happy it did! Yeah there’s nothing quite like passing up any spot for the mystery of finding the perfect spot
My condolences. I will park far away from the entrance, considering that a convenience, but am crippled when the Boss is my passenger as she suffer the PL NAZI syndrome. You explain it very well.
I try to – thinking about starting a support group- we meet once a week and bitch about the PLN you in?
In! Interesting subgroups available?
Perfect I’ll see what I can do -for now we can file our complaints here and hope and (not) hope our personal PLNs read the outrage
There’s the Soup Nazi, and now with have the Spot Nazi. “They haven’t met you,” damn straight.
Exactly!!
Oh my gosh. It has to be driver’s choice
totally agree – thank you for reading
I’m with you 100%
I’d worry about karmic debt. God might think “You want a handicapped plaque? Ok”
That’s my wife!
hahah indeed!
Ahh, been there, done that. My heart is with you, mate! What stress we add to life confined in a tiny parking lot looking for the ideal white lines to claim as our personal tiny territory for oh so short of time.
it’s crazy right! thank you so much for reading!
I don’t drive but I try not to be a Nazi to the ones who do. LoL
Very kind of you – you are a good man
I understand the whole intention behind getting a good parking spot but your choice to call the person a parking spot Nazi is just hilarious 😂
Very well written post! 😂👏🏻
Oh this is hilarious!
Thank you so much!!
…….then there is living in Montana, where giant trucks park on either side of you and you have no hope of backing out of that “Perfect spot” with your tiny car. So you circle the lot like a buzzard looking for a spot where you can get out easily, able to see what’s behind you to get out safely! But alas, there are 10 handicap spots and several more for people picking up groceries. And you realize okay, I have to walk a long ways, I guess this is my free workout, since I don’t belong to a gym. 🙂
This is normally when I put on my best Arnie voice from the Terminator and say “Get out”.
Hahah I said that it my head
You should totally just drop her off outside the entrance and park in the quiet zone.
Guess to which God I pray? The God of Parking Spaces…
Oh my!! Thank you so much for reading
lol!
i do with parking lot nazis what needs to be done with parking lot nazis: have them duke it out with parking lot commies
This is too hilarious!
Thank you so much!!
Ha, There is also a sense of achievement when You’re not incensed on getting as close as your can to the store. I park up where ever there is a spot and casually, relaxed go about my shopping. While taking amusing myself with the red faced, stressed out mass who seem to approach shopping as the most stressful thing anyone can do. I prefer the stress free, relaxed approach to life.
I do too my friend, it’s the way to be
LOL – great little story. I’m the opposite of *your* parking Nazi. I park as far away as possible even when there’s empty spots nearby. LOL. My husband says, why is it always a hike to get into the store?
You and I are kindred spirits
Brilliantly describing a painful human phenomenon. I have felt your pain, thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much for reading!! Happy Thanksgiving!
This is why I love to ride a bike. (Among other reasons.)
I’m a big ebike guy myself