In Which I Become an Excellent Parallel Parker

An ex-boyfriend taught me how to parallel park. This same ex-boyfriend also taught me how to hand roll a tight spliff, but my father reads my blog, so this will be about parallel parking. (Hi, Dad. Cough.)
If you went to high school when I did, you probably learned to parallel park from overweight football coaches, and what a fine job they did, too! Perhaps football players respond well to humiliation, but when large men yell and threaten to bump me off the honor roll, I tend to go catatonic.
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