You can drive down the block looking for a spot at 50 miles an hour, because the location of every fire hydrant and driveway in a 20 square block radius is hardwired into your brain.
You act like little nicks and dents in your bumper don't bother you, but they secretly tear at your soul.
You can hear the difference between the sound of a car door closing in an empty car versus one with people in it...from three blocks away.
Your car has an alarm, but you have no idea what it sounds like, because you are never parked on your own street.
You believe there are too many fire hydrants in your neighborhood, and you would gladly trade off the chance of getting out of your house alive in a fire for a few extra spots.
Empty parking spaces look suspicious to you, especially if you've been driving around for less than ten minutes. You approach them with caution.
You tell out of town guests to stop at your house or apartment first, so you can come down and drive around with them looking for a spot. After the third time they slow down for a hydrant, you reach across, open their door, push them out of the moving car, and take over. You are parked 4 minutes and 3 miles later.
You look for jobs with hours that fit your alternate side of the street parking schedule.
You are not Jewish, but you know all the holidays.
You could park an Impala in a thimble if you really needed to.
