One of my superpowers has two parts. First, it’s finding street parking in the city. Second, and, this is the really impressive part, is getting my car into the tiniest of spaces.

I am really that good.

I am so good that I people on the sidewalk stop and watch me and applaud. I am so good that truckers pause and shake their heads before they see me adroitly place my car, at which point they nod approvingly as one pro to another. I am so good that when I did a u-turn to fluently slip into a spot across the street, an offended police officer gave a low whistle before he upbraided me for an illegal traffic move. No ticket, either.

I might do a little bit of bumper tapping, and occasionally I have to reset, but, in the end, it’s me next to the curb in a tight spot.

I will never forget when this superpower was granted to me. Ann K., my boss at the arcade, saw me struggling to get my car next to the curb. I was going nose in.

“No, honey.” (She called everyone honey.) “You can’t get in like that. Let me tell you how my uncle told me.” In a few seconds she passed on the power. She never showed me. She simply told me. I don’t know if there was a green spark or subtle neon glow that marked the powerup. Maybe. Regardless, I’ve been parking like a boss ever since.

There are, of course, physical limitations. Like you can’t put your car in a spot smaller than your vehicle. You CAN, however, put your car in a spot that LOOKS smaller. Knowing the difference is part of the superpower.

It’s really all mechanics, you say. And I say, no. It’s the power of trust. It’s believing that when you apply the mechanics your car will fit into the spot. And it does.

I guess that those new automatic car parking features are my kryptonite. I bet that most people who have them either use valet anyway or live in the suburbs and park in lots.

Me? I’ll trust in my own power.