The satisfying art of parking

There is nothing like the satisfaction of nailing a perfect manoeuvre into a tight parking spot – even better if that spot is going to protect your pride and joy from door dings as well…

There are some things in life that create an intense feeling of satisfaction that is hard to rival (keep your mind out of the gutter please). These satisfying events can be small in size but create a giant moment of inner pride and accomplishment. My personal list of small but satisfying wins includes:

• A cross-room shot into the wastepaper basket that hits the bullseye
• Slotting the last piece into a challenging jigsaw puzzle
• Cutting anything in half by eye, and the two pieces turn out to be identical in length
• An intensive bubble wrap popping session, preferably the large chunky variety
• Peeling the protective film off a newly-acquired gadget

I can feel a warm glow from just writing this list, but the one thing that tops them all is the flawless execution of a level 10 difficulty parking manoeuvre. The harder the space, the more valuable the car, the more people watching, then the bigger the buzz… (who says introverts can’t be show-offs?).

That space up against the wall at the end of the narrowest offshoot of a sprawling car park? That’s the one for me – the arc of the approach path starts to appear in my brain like a missile lock display in a fighter jet movie scene. A super-tight spot between columns in a multi-storey car park? Hold my beer, I’ll wiggle a massive SUV in there even if I have to climb out of the sunroof after I’ve done it.

This habit of seeking out challenging spaces has not gone unnoticed by my long-suffering wife. As I lap the car park to find the only space where the doors can’t be banged by another car, the inevitable question “could we not have just parked near the door” soon follows with a roll of the eyeballs.

The love for challenging parking is in my blood, my first ever ‘proper job’ with a payslip was a summer stint working at a Ford dealership in my home town at the tender age of 17. It was back in the days when there was a new registration letter prefix on the first of August every year, it was a big deal to have the newest car on the road. It was in fact such a big deal that dealers used to stay open until midnight so that customer could drive their new car onto the road at 00:01h and win the accolade of being the smuggest Mondeo man in town. This craze required a massive stockpile of newly registered cars that needed to be prepped, cleaned and parked in advance of the big day.

And boy were those new cars parked tightly. At the dealership I worked for they rented an old tyre factory and the cars were parked in huge lines, touching bumpers with just enough room to squeeze out of the door. Precision and speed was required, there was a stream of valeters, delivery drivers and mechanics constantly adding cars to the ranks over the summer. I learnt the most efficient routine from the mechanics – enter the old factory at a decent lick, execute a quick 180 handbrake turn in the accumulated pigeon poo, then reverse into the newest line in readiness for a feather-light touch on the car behind. Rinse and repeat!

So I admit it, I am guilty of engineering over-complicated parking situations just to get the buzz of nailing it on the first attempt. Some people won’t understand the sense of satisfaction that comes from a one-hit parallel park on a busy high street, but that’s fine. It’s the little wins in life that make sometimes make your day. You can keep your parking sensors and your 360 cameras, give me a delivery mileage Transit Mk5, a tiny parking space and I am a happy man.