Conan the Carbarian

I suffer from severe PMT, or parking manoeuvre trauma.  I am an OK driver, I wouldn't say I was great, but I've not had any serious incidents.  I do fine when I'm actually driving, and negotiating around other drivers and moving objects. However, when it comes to maneuvering around stationary objects and parking, well, things are not so great.  Somehow things become far more complicated in my head when my point of reference is perfectly still. It makes no sense!  I can happyily compensate for the disconcerting swerving of an inebriated driver and avoid them, but a perfectly still bollard? Now that's complicated!

My most recent dent personalisation to the car occurred a couple of weekends ago on a trip to Plymouth. I drove the two and a half hours from Bristol without issue, but once I arrived at the shopping centre car park, that all changed. I was aware I was running late, so was desperately searching for a parking space. As I was nearing the top of the car park, I espied an empty space. It was placed horizontally against the outer wall of the car park, and had a lime green support pillar running down the middle of the outside of the space (this is a rubbish explanation, so a rubbish diagram to accompany it is below).  For some reason known only to Plymouth City Council, the two spaces further along the wall had no pillar, but had painted 'no parking' markings over them.

I swung the car into the space and attempted to straighten up. Husband tentatively told me that I was going to hit the car against the pillar; I gave a cursory glance at the side mirror, and noting the mirror itself was clear continued anyway. The rather upsetting scruncheeezeee sound of metal against concrete alerted me to quite how close the pillar was. I was then faced with a horrible realisation that I was going to have to do more damage to get the car off the pillar. All in all, it did not end well.

Click to enlarge the damage, and mock Negative Voice's

poor grammar -touche!

I have now christened our car Conan the Carbarian, as it is adorned with many dents and war wounds. I like to think of it as rugged (like Russel Crow in Gladiator, not Robin Williams in the Fisher King) rather than a mangled tin bucket held together by t-cut and wax. I think it makes a formidable presence on the road, and people certainly move out of the way of it. Although this may be more to do with doubts over the driver's ability than the aesthetics of the car itself.