Please just park

Let’s talk about parking lot etiquette and some of the prime offenders.

The Waiter sits in his car, turn signal blinking, waiting for a little old lady to finish loading her trunk so she can leave and he can claim her spot. An amateur Waiter might throw defiant gestures toward the honking drivers piling up behind him, but veterans have mastered the art of serene disregard for others.

The Stalker creeps along in his car behind a mom walking to her minivan with three kids and a full shopping cart. He wants her parking spot when she vacates it. Which, by the time she’s unpacked her groceries, buckled in her children and returned her cart, could be 10 minutes later. (Many Waiters start out as Stalkers.)

The Circler wastes gas and time driving around and around the parking lot – past dozens of open spots, none quite good enough – hoping to pounce when a prime space finally opens up. If, that is, a Waiter isn’t already in line for it. Circling parking lots may be a victimless crime, but it defies explanation.

I know, I know – you’re thinking there are times when you have no choice but to wait, stalk or circle. When it’s raining or freezing and you forgot your umbrella or coat. Or when it’s Christmas Eve and you and the rest of Procrastinators Anonymous are congregating at Walmart in a panic. Fine, I’ll allow for special circumstances.

But the gym?

Waiters, Stalkers and Circlers have no place at the gym.

Let’s say that after 10 minutes of circling the gym parking lot, you snag a spot 20 feet from the entrance. What’s next? Well, you’re at the gym, so presumably you’ll go inside and start running on a treadmill, swimming laps, playing racquetball or doing aerobics. Whatever your workout consists of, the walk from your car to the gym is the least strenuous part of it.

You are paying for the right to break a sweat and get your heart pounding. Why not get a head start?

My grandmother is 76 years old. She belongs to the Zipper Club, a group of people who have had open-heart surgery (evidenced by a scar that resembles a zipper). She and her Zipper Club friends go to the gym to do cardiac rehab with a physical therapist and to discuss low-sodium cooking with a dietitian. They are not at the gym for Zumba.

Zipper Club members legitimately need to park close to the entrance. Therefore, they get designated spots.

Handicapped people get special parking spots. So, increasingly, do pregnant women, or parents with multiple kids.

People who are lazy, who are running late or who forgot their coat are not guaranteed a convenient spot – certainly not at other drivers’ expense.

Waiting, stalking or circling isn’t worth it. Trust me: Take the first parking spot you see, get out of your car and walk to the entrance of wherever you’re going. (Especially if it’s the gym.)

Enjoy the extra 30 seconds of fresh air. On your way in, you’ll probably pass at least one Waiter; scoff at him in righteous indignation.

Your legs will thank you for using them. And the rest of us will thank you for just getting on with it.