A Parking Job So Bad It Needed Emergency Care

I was visiting my mother at Roper St. Francis in Mount Pleasant when I left for a few hours to attend a recovery meeting.

On my way out, I saw this car parked outside the Emergency Department.

Or at least I think it was parked. It appeared to have simply stopped wherever it lost interest in moving.

Now, because this was outside the Emergency Department, I kind of understand. Emergencies are emergencies. Sometimes you pull up, get someone inside, and worry about the car afterward.

I have my own story.

When my ex-wife was about to give birth to our son—our second child—she waited until nearly the last possible moment to announce that it was time to go to the hospital.

On the way there, I may have run a few red lights. I did honk as I approached them to warn people that a panicked father-to-be was coming through.

When we reached the Emergency Department, I jumped out, ran inside, and grabbed a wheelchair. My ex-wife was still sitting in the car. I got her into the wheelchair and rushed her inside.

Meanwhile, the car was still running, the keys were still in it, and the doors were wide open.

Was that proper parking etiquette?

Absolutely not.

But a baby was arriving, and my priorities were clear: mother, baby, and then the unattended getaway car sitting outside.

So yes, I can understand a bad parking job at an emergency room—at least temporarily.

But the car I saw at Roper St. Francis was on another level. It was sitting crooked across the blue-striped access aisle next to an accessible parking space, looking less like someone had parked it and more like it had been abandoned mid-thought.

Those striped areas are not bonus parking spaces. They provide the room people need to deploy wheelchair ramps, use mobility equipment, and safely enter or exit their vehicles.

When I returned from my recovery meeting, the car was gone.

Hopefully, whatever brought the driver to the Emergency Department turned out okay.

Or perhaps the car had simply been moved to another part of the parking lot—where it was parked just as horribly.

Either way, emergencies may explain a rushed arrival. They do not turn an access aisle into a parking space indefinitely.

Be safe. Be considerate. And once the emergency is under control, please go back and park the car between two actual lines.

Parking Between the Lines: A Radical Concept?

I headed to the Regal Palmetto Grande to catch a movie and, before I even made it to the theater, I got today's "parking performance review."

As I was looking for a spot, I came across this previous-generation Toyota RAV4. It wasn't just a little crooked. It was parked right across the access aisle next to a handicap space.

Now, because I'm a right above-knee amputee with a prosthetic leg and I rely on handicap parking when I need it, I pay attention to these things. Before I get out of my own vehicle, I almost always take a second look to make sure I'm centered between the lines. It takes maybe five extra seconds.

Those painted blue and striped areas aren't decoration. They're there so people using wheelchairs, walkers, prosthetics, or other mobility devices have the room they need to safely get in and out of their vehicles.

Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I still think staying between the lines is a pretty good idea.

What's next? Maybe I'll start stopping at red lights too.

Sometimes the smallest acts of courtesy make the biggest difference for someone else.

Another One Caught: Parking Like the Rules Don't Apply

I caught another one.


Today I was on my way to the local Harris Teeter to pick up additional lottery tickets for the pool I'm in (more about that over at NielFlamm.com/blog). Harris Teeter is only about a mile from my house, and to get there, I pass Rivertowne Public House—which, by the way, has a great Caesar salad and chicken nachos if you've never been.


As I approached Harris Teeter, just past the Pub House, I noticed a white BMW X3 with a South Carolina license plate WUP 290. The driver was inching his way into a parking space so slowly that he backed up traffic in both directions. It wasn't a particularly difficult parking job—it just seemed like everyone else had to wait while he perfected it.


I didn't have time to snap a photo on the way in because I was headed to buy those lottery tickets. But I secretly hoped the BMW would still be there when I came back out on my way to get a car wash.


It was.


One thing that crossed my mind: this happened before anyone at the nearby pub would reasonably have had a chance to enjoy a few adult beverages and make questionable decisions afterward. From what I observed, this appeared to be a sober driver making a deliberate choice to take as much time as needed, regardless of the line of cars waiting behind him.


That's one of the reasons I'm glad I have this blog. It gives me a place to document the little moments that make you shake your head.


One quick note before anyone points it out: yes, you'll notice a golf cart parked in a handicap space. It appears to be a legitimate designated spot, and I don’t have information on whether the owner has a disability. I'm not making any assumptions about that.


What I am commenting on is the behavior I personally witnessed. Taking your time is one thing. Holding up traffic in both directions because you're determined to execute the perfect parking maneuver is another. A little consideration for the people around you goes a long way.


As a BMW owner myself, I hate seeing behavior that reinforces the stereotype that BMW drivers are selfish or entitled. Most of us aren't. Unfortunately, it only takes a few memorable moments like this to give everyone else a bad reputation.


Let's all remember that parking lots work best when everyone shares them with a little patience, courtesy, and awareness.


Have you ever witnessed a parking lot moment that made you wonder what someone was thinking? Leave a comment and let me know.