One of the things I pride myself on is my ability to learn and achieve a basic level of competency at new skill rather quickly. Haircutting? check. Interior painting? check. Database creation? check.
Parallel parking, however, is my bête noire. Thus far, approximately seven classmates have carpooled to events in our Civic, and all were exposed to my laughable parallel parking skills. It does not help that I have seriously warped depth perception and had never needed to learn parallel parking until, say, four months ago. It also does not help that I have zero confidence in my ability to parallel park with any sort of adequacy. As I descibed it last night, my parallel parking skills are the rough equivalent to those of a slighly drunken sixteen-year-old in a stolen truck with no power steering. At best, I might reach the level of said hypothetical drunken sixteen-year-old parking a minivan. I have more confidence in the ability of my cat to walk a tightrope than I have in my own ability to fit into a smallish space on the street.
So, in advance, be warned. If you at any point in the next year or so are a passenger in my car, please remember to build in an extra seven minutes into our transit time to give me the opportunity to inch forward and back into a largeish parallel spot and spend interminable amounts of time trying not to just stop my car in the middle of the street and give up.