I was almost involved in three accidents within a 15 minute time span.
                   With only 1 slight accident in 4 years (55,000 miles), I consider myself a
                   fairly decent driver. Why so many near-collisions within 15 minutes? Lack
                   of parking.

                   While parking spaces are at a minimum, this is already a recognized
                   problem. Rude, impatient, and incompetent student drivers have yet to be
                   discussed- at least, beyond the curse friendly confines of one’s own car.

                   Only a week after September 11th, I waited patiently, wanting to make a
                   right onto Pennsylvania Avenue. Careful of oncoming traffic (most of
                   which is blocked by parked cars), I pulled out. I heard a lot of screeching
                   and screaming behind me immediately afterwards. I hadn’t even seen this
                   car, but it must have been going over 45 mph if the brake screech was
                   that loud. Further screeching ensued: the driver behind me waved her
                   middle finger in forceful angst while screaming incoherently out the
                   window.

                   On a Monday evening, I approached the Garden Apartments parking lot
                   not expecting to find a space. There was one vacant space, and I began
                   a left turn into the parking lot. Instantly, I was hitting my brakes, to avoid
                   the driver of a much older, smashed up car as it made an immediate right
                   in my actual turning path. Frustrated, I reversed and tried again.

                   I noticed a space behind me, near the reserved Human Resources area.
                   As I was actually turning my wheel to back into the space, another
                   apartment resident occupied the space so quickly that I once again had
                   to hit my brakes to avoid hitting her. This was not a time to sit in my car
                   and mumble curses under my breath. It was a time to park in faculty, drag
                   my three heavy bags out of the car, and shout a clear, crisp,
                   monosyllabic obscenity at the other driver.

                   I can’t say I recommend shouting obscenities at people, but my stress
                   was gone. My anger at bin Laden was no more. My 3 hours of German
                   homework stopped seeming so impossible. And now that bin Laden’s still
                   uncaptured and the German homework is finished, I just feel awful.

                   I feel guilty. This is the first time I have ever shouted an obscenity at
                   someone with whom I was not already acquainted. Profanity usually
                   accompanies humor in my circle of friends, but in this instance, it was
                   clearly filtered anger.

                   So I pulled back into the apartment lot as another driver left his space. I
                   moved in right away, having learned my lesson: if yelling obscenities at
                   them doesn’t fix anything, join the game and swipe spaces, too.
 

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