Parking Lot Personality Test

I have a very unique gift. I can tell a lot about a personality by the way a person parks. Three shining examples of my unique gift come to mind, that I will share here to illustrate my point.

One busy Saturday, I was in the grocery store parking lot when a sedan rushed into one of the parking spots marked by a sign with a big, pink Stork sign that says “Reserved for Expectant Mothers”.

Out of the car jumped a man, who from his appearance, seems to be, in fact, 8 months pregnant. Perhaps with twins.

Personality assessment: Selfish Prick*.

(*Note: this personality type will never been seen on a Myers-Briggs assessment. I believe this is a gap in current personality assessment science, hence I will follow my instinct, and challenge the status quo.)

Perfect timing was on my side, as he left the store right in front of me as I completed my shopping and schlepped past him to my parking spot for the non-knocked up. He popped open his trunk and loaded 3 cases of (cheap, nasty) beer from his cart. My inner (sarcastic) spiritual guide prompted my comment, “Oh my goodness! Boy or girl?” as I demurely tucked my chin to one side, with a sweet southern smile, and looked at his expanding, yet assumingly uterus-free, mid-section. He looked at me, wide-eyed, and slightly confused. Bless his little, selfish heart. Obviously, he was going to give birth to a keg, given the contents of his shopping cart. I could only hope, for his sake, it was just a pony keg, or his “parts” would never be the same. But then again, it also may be sweet justice from the hand of the universe, and who am I to interfere?

My expression, in split seconds transformed to resting bitch mode, and I slowly turned my head and gaze to the giant pink stork sign, and then rotated my death stare back to him. One eyebrow cocked, smile replaced by a straight, tensed lip line.  Now he was really scared. And I threw down the classic, inner valley girl equivalent of calling someone a thoughtless moron.

“Really?” And with that quip, I flipped my blond ponytail and continued to my car.

The second parking episode was more insightful and less dramatic. I arrived at daycare right before 5pm one day to pick up my darlings. As I carefully turned into the parking lot, a Lexus screeched into the lot, through the drive clearly marked “exit only,” and parked diagonally in the Handicapped reserved spaces – taking up both designated as such. A tall, uppity woman, jumps out of the car, curtly speaks into her cell phone saying “I will have to call you back,” and struts into the school. I hurry, disappointed I lack any snacks to enjoy while I watch this drama that is certain to unfold.

Personality assessment: Uppity, self-absorbed, slight narcissistic, being-her-husband-would-be hell, she devil*.

(*Note: Same gap in current personality science. Raise your hand if you do NOT know someone who falls into this category. Anyone? Bueller?)

She has been summoned by the center’s Director, who is waiting for her. This woman’s son is being sent home because of his behavior. What happened, you ask? HE REFUSED TO FOLLOW THE RULES. Shocking! Where on earth could he have developed this sense that rules do not apply to him? Truly a mystery? Not so much. We have a saying here in the South, “The nut doesn’t fall far from the tree.”  And his tree was a self-absorbed, rule breaking when she felt like it, hot mess. Good luck, Momma – he is five now. Might as well start hoarding away some money for a probation fund instead of a college savings account.

My last example is profound. Here is how a teenage boy I know parked in his driveway:

Talented 16 year old parker.
Talented 16 year old parker.


Notice, he backed in, inches away from both the tree and the back fence. I happen to know that car has no back up camera, nor sensors to help guide you. What does this tell me? Simple.

Personality Assessment: Self-preserving and thoughtful*.

(*Note: It is a maternal characteristic in this case.)

He was trying to avoid having his mother back straight into his large vehicle with her tiny car with sensors. You see, over the years, she had run over so many soccer balls, tree branches, and the like, that a little crunching sound as she backed up never fazed her. She just kept going.

And recently, that resulted in her scratching the crap out of her BMW, and dully scratching the front of his car. She is not selfish, just distracted.

And she was born blonde.

And she writes this blog.

Poor kid, he barely had a chance.

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