If you illegally park, then I HATE you!

If you park in a designated handicap parking space, and you do not have a hangtag or a valid reason to do so, then I hate you.
If you decide to park right next to the entrance to a parking deck with your flashers on, leaving drivers with only inches to spare when navigating already tight curves, then I hate you, too.
If you park in a space designated for parents to drop their children off at The Rich Center for Autism, just so you can run into Kilcawley Center real quick to get a ridiculously oversized iced coffee, then guess what?
You remember when you were a kid, inconsiderate parker?
Remember how you wore the same socks for like three days, and when you removed them, you had all this weird gloopy matter caked to your toes, and the only way to remove it was with bar soap and a loofa, and everyone was disgusted by the sight except you, because at first you were uncomfortable about the looks of disdain, but eventually grew indifferent to them, comfortable with your own stomach turning awfulness and at peace with what you’d become?
That’s what everyone compares you to.
If you peel out as the light turns green, causing pedestrians to quicken their step in fear, then you suck.
If you blow a stop sign — I’m talking to you, Mr. Blue Minivan yesterday morning —then I hope you have a bad day.
I hope you spill your stupid $4 energy drink all over your stupid pants and are left with a sticky residue all over your bright yellow shoes all day.
Non-trads: Take. Off. The. Bluetooth. Headset. This is not “Top Gun,” and you are not Maverick.
It’s a four-way stop. Don’t wave me through. It’s your turn. Go, for Pete’s sake!
It’s your turn!
I’m not saying I’m better than you, you inconsiderate git. I’m not saying I’m perfect. What I am saying is that handicap parking spaces are there for people who can’t park farther away and then deal with the longer trek to class. They can’t. That’s why those spaces exist.
I’ve never stolen a space like that. You know why?
Because if we just decide to ignore our conventions and rules, the whole thing goes to piddle.
If we fail to keep our promise to each other to behave as good citizens and follow directions — our social contract, for goodness sake — then society crumbles.
Imagine for a second, the implications.
The construct of the nation, based on trust and fear, will wither and die.
The whole basis of order will come tumbling down around us like the proverbial deck of cards.
We will enter a future without rules. No law. No safety. You know how this ends?
Before long, we’re killing each other for a drop of gasoline in the dystopian “Mad Max” future we have created.
And as we look to the scorched sky, pleading for a reason as to why the god of rules has forsaken us, we will realize that, in the grand scheme of things, walking an extra five minutes to an appropriate space was not worth the hell we have invented for ourselves.
That is why I never illegally park.
Unless I’m really late for class, or I need to drop my kid off at daycare.
Just real quick.