Now look at the middle car up front--the Mercedes. That parking position is what Italians call in seconda, which means it's parked in the second parallel position next to the curb. It's illegal, but you probably won't get a ticket as long as you keep your eye on your car, ready to move it at a moment's notice. This parking technique is often used when Italians dash into a bar to get a coffee.
Look closely and you'll see another car behind the Mercedes. If anyone on the inside wants to get out, all they have to do is lean on their horn, and the owner of the cars in seconda will materialize and move their cars. Or the seconda drivers might leave their cell phone numbers scribbled on a piece of paper left on the dashboard for you to call and tell them to get their cars out of the way.
Now enter our car. The blue one all the way on the right. We went to the beach on this day, and there was no spot in sight. Not even in seconda. So my husband invented a place--in terza, I suppose you could call it. It's literally right in the middle of the road. But it's the perfect spot--we're not blocking anyone in, and there's room for other cars to get by. Illegal? Schmillegal.
I must admit, parking in the middle of the road would have never occurred to me. I've parked on sidewalks, mind you, and in the occasional bus lane. But this time, I would have driven right by this prime parking spot, muttering that all the spaces were filled.
While I admire the Italians for their parking prowess, I yearn for the wide spaces in the Target parking lot. I used to lament when the only free space at the mall on the morning of December 24 was all the way at the end, a kilometer away from the nearest entrance. Now? I'll never curse another American parking lot again.