Much Ado about NOTHING

Parking is such a pleasure in downtown Jersey City -- not. My wyfe wedged our car into a tiny on-street parking space this afternoon, using her usual method of "park by feel" -- that is, by inching into it with many revolutions of the steering wheel and tapping the bumpers of the cars in front and behind. She ended up with one wheel on the curb and about a micrometer of space, if that, between our car and the others.

When she returned to the car, she found two irate citizens taking pictures and about to call the police. "I want to see how you're going to get out of that parking space without touching my car!" one of them barked. Neither of them would agree to move their own cars even a few inches to make that possible (and there was plenty of room for them to do so). One of them went inside her house, ostensibly to call the cops, although that seemed like an idle threat -- the police have better things to do in Jersey City.

Eventually, my wife just exited her parking space the same way she got into it -- by inching and, yes, tapping bumpers. (That's why they call them bumpers, word mavens.) She left one of the irate citizens literally hopping mad and inspecting his back bumper for smudges.

We've yet to hear from the police.