It’s a miracle nobody was killed.

Judging from its position in the parking lot, the car must have fallen straight out of the sky, flipping once or twice before coming to rest at its weird angle across three spaces. Not only that, but the butt end of the car was sticking out into the travel lane, making it near impossible for other drivers to maneuver around it.

“Are you OK?” people said, passing in groups. “Gosh, I hope nobody is hurt.”

My thoughts and prayers go out to the victims.

The victims in this case being me. And you. And your brothers, your cousins and your dear old Auntie Evelyn who has to shuffle inch by inch wherever she walks.

It turns out that the car wasn’t positioned that way due to a freak crash or some magician’s trick. It was positioned that way because its driver had determined that his or her convenience was far more important than the comfort, safety and general well-being of everyone else.

So what if parking at that greedy diagonal meant the next guy had to search a little longer for a space? So what if poor Auntie Evelyn had to step out into passing traffic to get around it? So buttons on ice cream, that’s what. The driver of that car got into Walmart three seconds quicker and with fewer steps and that’s all that matters.

Yes, I’m being snarky. Yes, I’m whining about the way people park again. The way a person parks reflects his or her general attitude toward humanity, after all. I know this because I spend an inordinate amount of time (too much to be healthy, really) studying this aggravating phenomenon. I have so many notebooks filled with my observations, I had to rent storage space.

11:00 — Overcast with a light NW wind. Visibility good. Subject has parked minivan laterally across two spaces, with the northern space being a handicapped spot. Subject is described as a young female in yoga pants and a smartphone surgically embedded in right hand.

14:20 — Still overcast. Subject has parked shiny BMW inches from the next vehicle, rendering ingress or egress impossible. Subject is young man in leather coat who is checking stock listings on his tablet while walking toward store.

14:21 — Is “ingress” a real word? Must go into store to buy dictionary.

15:50 — A young woman, described as a “hoochie” by other customers, has parked her car directly in front of the main entrance at the grocery store. When asked by a customer why she felt she could park there, said hoochie replied, “I’m just going in for a few things and to rent a video. Chillax, man.” Hoochie was not affected by the two dozen eye lasers fired at her from all directions. Must have some kind of shield.

16:00 — Are the editors going to let me use “hoochie” in this column? Let’s find out.

Every time I see someone parking like an inconsiderate, self-absorbed dolt, I’m shocked. Shocked! I stand there with my mouth open while other customers just shake their heads and go on their way. The Kangaroo Court despises selfish parkers, but what are you going to do? Stand around all day, waiting for the offender to exit the store so you can scold him or her?

A few have taken to handing out faux tickets, which advise selfish parkers of their sins and throw in a few mean names on top of it. Entire websites are dedicated to the phenomenon, with fresh photos of astoundingly bad parking posted every day. Fun!

But not real helpful. Why? Because, according to my intense and self-funded study, the people who park like morons by and large don’t believe they park like morons. We’re talking about pathology so messed up, I should probably make up a Greek-sounding name for it.

A car comes wheeling into the Shaw’s parking lot, stereo blasting, driver hidden behind an enormous cellphone on which she has just sent out a very important text involving a spiffy new pair of yoga pants. Instead of searching for a parking spot like the rest of us, Yoga Pants simply steers into the first vacant patch of tar she sees, which happens to be the no-man’s land between handicapped parking and the store itself, an area marked by numerous signs bearing messages such as, “FIRE LANE. NO PARKING. WE MEAN, LIKE, EVER!

She exits her car and sashays into the store, completely oblivious to the eye lasers and angry murmurs all around her. Approach the lass at the Red Box video console later and ask for her thoughts on inconsiderate parking. She’ll give you an earful. “Those people are horrible. So rude. They ought to be put in jail.”

It doesn’t apply to her, of course, because she was only there to rent a video. And that’s denial, my friends, a complex quirk of human nature everyone employs at one time or another to continue engaging in bad behavior without guilt or consequence.

Everyone except me, that is. I don’t have that.

Mark LaFlamme is a Sun Journal staff hoochie who likes to park his denial in the loading zone. Email him at mlaflamme@sunjournal.com.

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