Big parking lots drive me crazy. It doesn’t seem to matter whether it’s the lot at Dan’s Market or Small-Mart; they all scare the bejeebers out of me. There are more rules, and more careful drivers, in a demolition derby at the county fair. On the roads and highways, most drivers know, and follow, the laws and rules of etiquette; but turn into a shopping center parking lot and it’s every person for themself.

Last week, I drove the little woman over the Dan’s to pick up some grub. I love to eat, but I hate grocery stores, so I waited in the truck and took in the greatest show on earth. It’s like watching Extreme Fighting, but without the rules that prohibit things like eye gouging, biting or throat punches. Heck, I can sit in the supermarket parking lot for free and watch folks?many of whom I also see kneeling piously at church on Sunday mornings?treating one another with total disrespect and ill will.

My favorite show on that particular day was the soccer mom in the brand new Volvo station wagon who slowly cruised the lot?up Row A, down Row B, then diagonally across the empty spots at the end of row B to get to Row C. Around and around, prowling like a coyote, waiting to pounce on a spot near the store entrance. I watched her cruise for ten minutes—and then it happened. A red Chevy backed slowly out of its spot as an elderly couple waited patiently in their Grand Marquis to take its place. The Chevy was barely out of her way when Sally Soccer Mom pulled across the lane to cut in front of the old folks, nearly scraping the “Give Peace A Chance” sticker off the bumper of her Volvo. The senior citizens and I watched in disbelief as Sally jumped out of her car, her Gucci exercise outfit still damp with perspiration following her sixty minute Tae Bo workout at the Ladies Fitness Center and walked the few yards to into the grocery store, pleased to have saved herself that extra twenty or so steps from the empty spots at the end of Row B. In spite of my wishes, she made it into the store without getting tiretracks on her overstuffed designer outfit.

It seems to me that most of these parking lots are not designed with pickup trucks in mind. The rows are too close together, and the spaces too narrow, to allow for my F- 150 to back out and turn to exit in a single maneuver.

That’s a big part of the reason I’d rather go to the oral surgeon than shop. I’m telling you, current parking lot designs discourage shopping by pickup truck owners. With that in mind, I’ve been thinking I could save money by trading the little woman’s Honda Civic for a brand new three-quarter ton F-250 with a crew cab, duelies, and an eight foot bed.

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