Driving Mr. McDermott (Further Adventures with Parallel Parking)

Last Monday, I went with Walter for my first drive since before Easter. Apparently, those weeks off were not kind to my driving skills or comfort behind the wheel; I’d hardly retained an iota of my parking knowledge—it was as if I’d never attempted to parallel park before. And when Walter had me park between the barrels down at Liberty State Park, if felt as if I was relearning everything I’d been taught. Now, I was stymied by over-thinking the situation: my angle of approach, speed, turning, and timing. Everything you’re supposed to consider and calculate without thinking, I tried to do by thinking—and that’s not how it works.

So, slowly and surely, I parked again and again; or else, got myself partially into the spot—stuck in ways I’d never been before. And, naturally, even when I did park successfully, I was never satisfied with the results. Of course, Walter reassured me each time that the parking job was fine—the tires were equidistant and acceptably close to the curb—but acknowledged that the process could still use some work. And if that wasn’t enough, among the dozen or so people who biked, jogged, or walked by me as I parked, one guy gave me an “Awesome!” and a thumbs-up when Walter asked him for an assessment of my parking job. And yet, I spent the majority of the lesson relearning with the barrels, building back my confidence and comfort—just in time to have it razed by practical application.

As we drove back across Jersey City to my apartment, Walter and I parallel-parked our way down a few side streets—much to the chagrin of my fellow drivers. This is the situation I have dreaded perhaps the most: embarrassing myself in front of honking, impatient drivers. Nervous and flustered, I too often rushed my approach into the spots I found. But with each successful parking job, I wanted to find a smaller and smaller spot with which to test my skills. This, however, does seem to betray the notion that I may actually possess a cool, calm, and collected pool of confidence residing in a chamber deep in the recesses of my being—a resource I seldom tap, both because I forget the route to its hidden location and because I lack any belief in its existence. This time around, let’s hope I retain this knowledge and belief better then my parallel parking skillz.