Anyone Can Learn to Drive Like a Bostonian!

Caught dinner tonight in Arlington at Viet's Cafe, a place my whole family loves. (And I mean whole family. My parents always expect at least one trip there on their semi-annual sojourns from the south.) Don't miss the Vietnamese Pizza appetizer (more like a stuffed omelet, actually) or just about any of the soups. Topped it off with a visit to J.P. Lick's for mango sorbet.

What made the evening particularly memorable, however, was the jerk who parked his or her Subaru Forester a full 18 inches into the only space available on the street. Fortunately, I drive a small car (also a Subaru, but an Outback), and had learned--back in the day--the magical art of parallel parking on the streets of Old Town, Alexandria, Virginia (a neighborhood with many narrow streets, somewhat like Back Bay). What made it particularly galling was that Mr. or Ms. Forester had the last spot on the row, meaning that there was plenty of space to maneuver into place.

I just had to check the license plate, of course, and realized that this car belonged to that most fearful of drivers: the "I'm not from around here but I'll just jump right in and trump your bad driving habits with some of my own."

In other words: Illinois plates, Tufts Medical School stickers. Welcome to New England!