This story, hasn’t much a plot nor any good one liners or quotes. It’s short and sweet. It has a beginning and an end.
It was a busy night and right around the second turn of the evening. The hostess walked a couple over to a two-top in my section at one of the window tables. These table s are situated such that when seated at one of these tables, one sits parallel to the street.
Street-side, there are about 3 parking places to parallel park in front of the restaurant. As I approached the window table to greet and take a drink order, I couldn’t help to notice that a car was pulling out of a spot right in front of the table I was walking toward to greet. As humans with peripheral vision, the couple seated at the table couldn’t help but to glance over at the car movement. We all noted, that as a car was leaving and another was waiting to take its spot.
Small-talking about favorites on the menu, the couple and I are planning out a coursed meal based on my favorite dishes; a phenomena that occurs frequently leaving me both famished and jealous as I run each course. As we confirmed the cocktails and appetizers and were discussing entrees and wine, I couldn’t help but to glance up at the car that was attempting to parallel park.
Now, I am not fluent in automotive but from what I could tell, a bluish compact car was trying to parallel park…and I mean really trying. At the first miss, I grinned and giggled to myself only prompting my table to glance over and do the same.
Debating between seafood and tenderloins, I can’t help but to notice that the bluish compact failed at a second attempt. Then a third, then a forth, then a fifth and by the sixth the table next to us along with my table and I were all watching this car trying to parallel park.
The bluish compact noticed that it had now grasped the undivided attention of everyone sitting at the window, the pressure was on. The driver pulls back out, pulls up alongside the car in front of it and slowly backs in and (once again) cuts the wheel at the wrong moment. Knowing now that they had an audience, the driver commits to the position and proceeds to back up, and move forward inch by inch until successfully parked. A process which 14-points later, turned into a partially successful parallel park; an endeavor that left the bluish-compact nearly two feet away from the curb.
I glanced over to see if there were any other spectators and found that not only were my table and I relishing in this spectacle, but every table that had a view of the windows was too. All of us, anxiously awaiting to see who was to come out, and more importantly, who the culprit of the (officially) worse parking job ever was.
The reverse lights flashed, the headlights turned off and the dome light came on as the doors of the bluish-compact car opened. A thundering applause came from those who had been watching the event take place as the car unloaded revealing five completely tarted-up blondes, each dressed similar to either a disco ball or Kylie Minogue back-up dancer.
The applause was quickly accompanied by roaring laughter as each girl walked about six paces to reach the side walk.
Stereotypes aren’t true, but can be hysterically accurate.