A Golden Chicken

I saw one this morning.

On my way to work in the back lot behind the building.

Squatting low in the brush with a Subaru in her sights.

Stealthy, crafty, relentless.

What I’m referring to is the infamous "Parking Lot Predator".

They can be spotted in parking lots all across America.

Lying low at the end of the row of stalls waiting for that perfect spot to park.

Their quest is the ultimate parking space, in the front of the mall or movie theater or the donut shop. 

The one right next to the handicapped parking spaces.

My nephew used to call them a “Golden Chicken.”

I don’t know why but the expression always makes me chuckle.

They are the most aggressive during the holidays when any parking spot at all is hard to come by and the predator will stalk you from the moment you exit the building, sliding slyly behind you like a puma in the grass trying to guess which row you are parked in.

Sometimes they pull up next to you and roll down the window,

“Are you leaving??”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Where are you parked??”

“Right down this aisle on the right.”

Now apparently in the mind of the predator this means they now have “dibs” on your parking spot because they proceed to follow you at a slow crawl until you reach your car, with their blinker on the entire time lest someone have the ridiculous idea that they might get your soon-to-be-vacant spot.

You can almost hear them salivating when you take out your car keys.

The worst is when you are putting your stuff in the trunk and they are tapping their proverbial foot at you the entire time. (How dare you take the time to actually buckle up and not just pitch your 90 year old mother in the trunk to save time!)

I love how guilty you feel when you don’t realize you are the target on the predators road kill radar and have to turn around and say, “I’m sorry, I’m not leaving.”

Just make sure you don’t walk in front of them going back into the store.

You could end up with tire treads down your backside.

And Heaven help anyone who is coming from the opposite direction and tries to zoom into their space unawares.

There is nothing better than watching a predator confront a space stealer by knocking on their driver’s side window and having the person feign innocence.

“What?  Oh, was this YOUR space?”….sweat, sweat. (while locking their door.)

I love that scene from “Fried Green Tomatoes” when Kathy Bates is cheated out of her parking spot by the young obnoxious chicks in the red Volkswagen.  It always makes me laugh out loud when she is ramming the girls car repeatedly with her big Detroit special and screaming, “Yes Ma’am!!!”

My dream is to do that someday to a pushy parking lot rude dude.

My Mama told me a story of one day when my parents were going downtown and while my Daddy was backing into a parking space, some young guy tried to pull into it from the back and steal his spot.

When he saw in his rear view mirror what the young whippersnapper was trying to do, he immediately gunned the engine and slammed his car backwards so that they locked bumpers. (my Daddy had a problem with people who thought they were too big for their britches)

My Mama said that the door slowly swung open and this young, burly, HUGE man unfolded himself from his car and walked around to survey the damage.

(Bear in mind my Daddy was all of 5’7’’)

Dad, “Back it up fella!”

Now at this point in time my Daddy has climbed onto the bumpers and was jumping up and down on them trying to get them unstuck.

My Mama said that because he was elevated by the added height of the gleaming chrome he was now face to face with the pushy giant.

“I SAID, BACK IT UP FELLA!!!”

My mother was terrified that this rude ruffian would attack my Dad and beat him senseless and said, “Just get back in the car and let’s go!”

“No way!”  “If anybody’s leaving it’s going to be him!”

“This was my parking space first!”

Now the theory of “never challenge a feisty pitbull” comes to mind at this point and apparently the guy saw the crazy resolve in my Dad's eyes and decided he better do exactly as he suggested.

He got back in his car.

My father proceeded to jump up and down on the bumpers until his car was sprung free, the guy squealed away and my Dad parked his car in “his space.”

“Golden Chicken Justice”

As for the lady this morning, I thought I would pull her chain a little and motioned for her to roll down her window.

“Excuse me ma’am, I was just wondering."

"Are you leaving?”

……..I’m just sayin’