Pete and I have divergent views on parking lots–different goals.
My goal is to swing the car into the first spot I see and get out as soon as humanly possible. Pete’s goal is to find the spot that is closest to the door of wherever it is we’re going, even if that means circling the lot a time or two.
These different parking philosophies were the source of our very first argument, and probably most of our arguments since. Fortunately, after fifteen years, I have finally learned that I don’t need to try to yank him over to my way of thinking.
For one thing, it doesn’t work. Seeking out the best parking spot is akin to the thrill of the hunt, and Pete gets a little surge of satisfaction when he nabs that spot that’s mere steps away from the door. What he really wants from me is to cheer: “Wow! Great spot, honey.” Not to grumble: “We’d have been inside by now if you’d parked at that one by the entrance instead of doing fourteen loops around.”
For another thing, who’s to say that my way is right, just because it’s my way?
So yesterday, when we were going to lunch after church and he drove by four spots to get the one by the door, I bit my tongue and grinned.
And I must confess: when we left the restaurant with full bellies and post-gorge sleepiness, it was a relief to walk just a few steps to the car.