Parking Troubles

Today I was in a bit of a hurry and I just wanted to run in and out of the HUGE "grocery" store. I pulled up to a space and then realized it was a "handicap" space. No problem.

I drove on and noticed a couple of spaces side by side and not too far from the entrance. I started to pull into one and screeched to a stop when I saw a sign that had a diagram of a minivan and some little people. Underneath the picture it said "family parking". I was confused because I do have a family but they were not with me. In fact they are now grown up with families of their own. I had my dog with me and I believe she is part of the family. But when I saw an actual mini-van with 4 children and 2 adults inside pull into the space, I realized that my dog would not be considered enough family for me to park there. Fair enough.

I drove on, muttering slightly to my dog.

Again I saw in the distance, 3 spaces side by side fairly close to the store entrance. I pulled halfway into one before I noticed another sign. This one had a picture of a baby carriage and in words it said "pregnant women/new mother parking".

Now don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against handicapped people or pregnant women or families, but   COME ON!!!!  Doesn't it seem almost racist that there are "handicap", "family", "pregnant women/new mother"; even "small car" spaces (although mostly there are large cars and even trucks parked in these spaces)??  To be fair to all, shouldn't there be "gray-haired, mid-menopausal, in a hurry, on the verge of screaming, women" parking spaces?"

Looking cautiously at my dog, I suddenly remembered I had a pillow in the trunk. I eased my way into a pregnant spot and then quickly retreived the pillow, stuffing it snuggly under my shirt.  Then I swiftly waddled towards the store.

I soon returned to my vehicle and as I approached with my small bag of groceries, I pulled the pillow out from under my shirt. At the same moment I found myself being glared at by a pregnant mother of 4, driving a small car with a handicapped tag hanging in the windshield. Sheepishly, I slithered into my car and offered her my spot.

The moral of this story: there isn't one. I just wanted to vent about my parking troubles.