At the end of a steep, windy street near where I live is a very narrow lane that serves just one row of houses along the shore of Lake Washington. This road—“street” does not sound right—has outlets to the rest of the neighborhood at both ends, but in between is only wide enough to admit one car at a time and has no cross streets, and if you encounter another car going the other way, somebody has to find an unoccupied driveway to back into in order to resolve the impasse. This narrow road is a nice place for people to walk their dogs because it has so little risk of other traffic, and features the peaceful sound of the lake lapping at the shore.
Anyway, some inveterate optimist and/or masochist who lives along it has THIS in their driveway:
I’m pretty sure they can only get this out one direction, and even then it would be just insanely tight. After that, they have to climb a steep, windy street with lots of blind corners without leveling any oncoming traffic or, like, moms with strollers, and then traverse a long straightaway with no sidewalks that is also probably not wide enough for this guy to comfortably pass an oncoming truck. I really, really do not look forward to (inevitably) encountering him coming the other way on the windy part someday.
Sometimes I think I’m an idiot for commuting in a car that gets whatever gas mileage my C63 gets (bad!), but this guy...this guy is a much bigger idiot than me. The things we do for automotive love, amirite?