There are certain things in life that bring out the worst in
people. Bad drivers. Monolo pumps in sale bins.
There are certain things in life that bring out the worst in people. Bad drivers. Monolo pumps in sale bins. Love Boat reruns. You see what I’m getting at. But let me just say all that’s nothing compared to what I’ve recently added to my List of Things That Bring Out Hostility in Otherwise Rational People. And that would be [insert your own personal maniacal theme music here] the school parking lot.

The puzzling thing is no one knows why this happens. I mean, we all start out with pretty much the same goal, which is, for the most part, “to pick up our kids.” No one gets into their car thinking, “Ha! Ha! I’m going to cut people off, not wait my turn and honk randomly at nothing in particular.” But let’s face it, for reasons we do not yet understand, sometime between backing out of the driveway and pulling into the parking lot everything we’ve ever learned about waiting our turn and being polite and treating others how we’d like to be treated is replaced by seven little words: Move-Out-Of-My-Way-You-Idiot.

Oh, sure, there are a few theories about what causes Parking Lot Rage to happen. I mean, it could be that people are just in a hurry. Or the time of day. Or all of the gas fumes from the cars. But I think the real reason is, as my friend Linda puts it, “There’s just something about picking kids up from school that makes people nuts.”

And, trust me, I speak from personal experience.

Take, for example, the last time I picked up my daughter from school. I drove up toward the school all zen-like, thinking about my day so far, and the swim team carpool, and my new beige satin cami that I got on sale for 40 percent off which will go great with my brown layered skirt and strappy white sandals.

But what I didn’t anticipate, however, was that the car ahead of me would be so annoying. I mean, all I was trying to do was to pull into the entrance of the lot, and there it was stopped in the middle of the street. Right. In. My. Way.

But no biggie.

In my best, “I am a mother and a homeowner and a pillar of the community,” sort of way, I lightly tapped the horn and gave a friendly little wave.

Naturally, this caused the driver to do absolutely nothing.

So I did it again. And again. And, oh okay, again. And I might’ve even rolled down my window and yelled something like, “Hell-O. There are OTHER PEOPLE living on this planet, you know! MOOOOOOOVE IT!!” But I don’t really recall that part.

The driver, clearly affected by my persuasive argument, responded by turning off the car engine and staring at me with righteous indignation.

So I did what any upstanding driver would do: I squeezed my car in the 1/90-th of a nano-millimeter between the annoying stopped car and on-coming traffic, pulled in front of it and stopped. Ha! Ha! Take that, Buddy! I WILL PLAY YOUR SILLY TWISTED GAME.

Now let me just stop here for a moment and explain something in my defense, so you realize that I didn’t have a bad attitude, and that I have a good excuse for my behavior. Negotiating the school parking lot may seem like a haphazard sort of system, but there is a clear set of unspoken rules. One of which is that you definitely do not turn your car off in the middle of the street.

The other is, ahem, no yelling at other drivers out your car window. But no matter; my point in all this is, of course, if it weren’t for all of the other bad drivers, parking lot rage wouldn’t be a problem. You could cruise up to the curb, get your child, and be off. But, unlike the possibility of another Brady Bunch reunion and the return of the spiral perm, this will never, ever happen. So you might as well take what I call the “WhatEVER Approach” and cultivate an attitude of detached amusement.

So that’s what I’ll do. Next time I pick up my daughter I’ll be calm. And detached. And amused.

As long as no one gets in my way.

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