South Side native Bill Swindley is no stranger to horrific parking situations. Living just off East Carson Street for the past two years, he routinely finds himself driving around in circles looking for a place to park his 2002 Pontiac Grand Am with mint condition hubcaps and zebra-print seat covers. Pictured right is a photographer’s depiction of what Swindley’s car may look like if driving down a well-paved road at average speed.
His time on the South Side has upgraded his parallel parking skills to what one would call “passable.” But one fateful night, Swindley stumbled upon a superhero-ish trait.
“I stopped off at one of my favorite watering holes on East Carson to enjoy a couple beers before going home,” Swindley explained. “When I got to my street, I found a parking spot and…BOOM, I nailed that parallel park like an effing champ on the very first try.”
Swindley believes his newly-discovered parallel parking prowess can be credited to the two Imperial IPAs he enjoyed before retiring for the evening. Evidence of this can be found in the fact that his parallel parking after a Stout or Hefeweizen, even a Doppelbock, just never delivered the type of parking jobs you’d write home to mom about.
“I could feel my parking senses heighten,” Swindley said. “Like Spider Man. But, you know, with parking.”
According to Swindley, the wheels of his Grand Am were a state-recommended six inches from the curb and couldn’t have run more parallel to said curb if his cherry ride had been dropped in place by the god of parking himself. Swindley also mentioned the equal distance between the cars in front and behind him, smiling proudly at how his neighbors will be able to exit their spots and head to the hookah lounge with relative ease.
“Those people loooove the hookah,” Swindley admitted. “Damn hippies.”
Asked about upgrading to one of those new fancy cars that parallel park themselves, Swindley said, “Why bother? Two Imperial IPAs will only run me around $14 after tip. I can outperform the machine. The Grand Am is where it’s at.”
The Stuck Mash is a thing on Breaking Brews consisting of words, sentences, and paragraphs. Its contents represent a tapestry of flavors, textures, aromas, and moments designed to illuminate the mind, the body, and the spirit. OK, full disclosure: It’s a parody of some shit. No Grand Ams were parallel parked or hookah was smoked in the writing of this story.