One of life’s lessons to me is that my good parking karma is limited. When picking up eggs at the store last week I parked in the back forty and endured a drenching rain.
However, when I went to the consignment store two weeks ago I scored a stellar spot.
Last night when meeting colleagues for an after-work cocktail I slid into a spot by the door.
I have come to the conclusion, then, that it works when it’s important: for booze and shoes.