God is my Co-Pilot

For those of you who aren't familiar with the South Side of Pittsburgh, let me give you a mental image. The South Side is a strip of land on the south shore of the Allegheny River. It's popular with the punk and drinking crowds. The South Side contains a bar about every 3 storefronts on either side of the road for about 12 blocks. Also, with very few public parking lots and the back streets lined with row houses, parking is at a premium.

Today I saw something that, if J hadn't been my witness, would have made me think that I was hallucinating.

I noticed the backup lights on the car in front of me as it was trying to parallel park in a small space. It was a gold-colored Malibu driven by a little old nun. This nun seemed very determined to get her car into the tiniest of spaces. I thought to myself "she's never going to make it." Then, the unthinkable happened...she HIT the little blue Miata that she was backing towards.

That's not what makes it unthinkable; she KEPT going! She just kept revving the engine and rocking the Miata until it started moving. My mouth was agape as she pushed that little sportster about 3 feet back where it met the front bumper of a late-model Altima. Did Sister-Speedster stop there? Of course not. She kept pushing.

I was so shocked, yet so amused as she moved both cars until there was enough room for her to wedge her battered Malibu into that parking spot. She was apparently an expert; her bumper was covered with paint marks.

The whole time, this nun had the look of a determined 5-year old boy: eyes fixed, jaw-clenched, and hands firmly planted on her steering wheel. God was her co-pilot.

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