Not too recently Berta and I had taken the kids to a nearby shopping cernter to get some lunch and to get Abby some new shoes. Riley fell asleep and I stayed in the car with him while the girls went in shoe-shopping.
I was lounging in the driver’s seat, listening to news radio, wishing I had my PSP or DS with me, when a couple of people strolled through the parking lot and entered their vehicles.
I wasn’t really paying much attention at first, so I didn’t notice the person who got in the car across the aisle, but I did notice the lady who was parked directly next to me, since I could clearly see her face as she sat in the car about 2 feet away.
Both drivers started their cars and began to back out. I expected the usual subliminal and dominance-laden negotiation of parking lot drivers to take over so that they could both escape the lot with undamaged cars. Things didn’t quite go as planned.
The lady next to me only noticed that the other driver was backing out after her car was halfway into the aisle. From my high minivan vantage point, I could see that this was the best she could do with her field of view. Likewise, the other car would have to back out into the aisle before seeing the lady next to me. Usually this lack of visibility just means it takes them a little longer to realize what’s going on, except this other driver never bothered to look.
The lady next to me honked her horn, warning the driver of the other car that they were about to collide. The other driver kept backing up. I doubt the other driver heard the warning, or possibly the driver didn’t recognize that the horn was blared for that purpose. The lady next to me pulled her car forward some to get out of the way of the other car, and I saw it coming; The other driver was really not paying any attention to what was going on and the cars were very close. I honked my horn, trying to provide an escape for what looked like certain doom in auto body work.
Fortunately, the driver of the other car - who I could now see was one of those old ladies with the “up” gray hair, you know, looking like it was molded in one of those old-time hair drying bowls they lower over your head at the salon - decided that she had backed up far enough to pull out, and she sped off out of the parking lot.
The lady next to me gave me a look like, “What the heck?!” and then waved thanks and pulled out into the aisle safely.
It’s just not safe out there, not even in the shoe store parking lot. I found this entire exchange interesting because although you may often find yourself driving in that predicament, you don’t often get to observe savely from a good vantage point and referee the contest.
The girls soon returned with two pair of kid-sized pink sandals.
