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Investigative reporter, author and former federal agent Chuck Hustmyre has seen the ugly side of life, from A to Z. Here he gets the last word on politics, crime, local government and pop culture.

You know what hacks me off? Pinheads in parking lots.

As much as I despise shopping malls, occasionally, even I have to go to one. Movies I enjoy, and grocery stores are a necessity. All involve navigating parking lots.

Enter the pinheads. They come in three basic varieties: backers, stalkers and handicap stealers.

Twenty years ago I was sitting in a parking lot and eating my lunch at a police class I was attending at LSU when I saw a guy pull into a parking space at the far end of the lot in a two-door Monte Carlo or Grand Prix. For several minutes he worked to get his collapsible wheelchair from the backseat and set it up beside his car. Then he put one hand on the arm of the wheelchair and grabbed some part of the car with his other hand and vaulted into his chair. A minute later he was wheeling toward the building.

I remember thinking what an enormous amount of effort that guy had to go through just to get in and out of his car. I don't know if there was a handicap spot close to the building or even if that would have helped him, but I do know that if anyone deserved to park close to Pleasant Hall that day it was that guy.

Now, I see handicap parking spaces close to everything. I also see people with no visible disability taking up practically every one of them.

Fat and lazy isn't a legitimate handicap.

If you can walk unaided, then you can shop for a parking spot in the free market like the rest of us. Save the reserved handicap spaces for someone who needs them.

Then there are the stalkers. Drivers who will clog up traffic for 10 minutes waiting for that prime spot near the end of the lane. The owners of the car currently in that spot can be unloading a month of groceries into the trunk and tying a barbecue pit to the top, but that stalker will just sit, and sit, and sit, waiting for that one spot.

It's not surprising to me that Americans are so fat when we're willing to sit still for 10 minutes to save 90 seconds of walking.

Then there are the backer-uppers. Those guys (and they're almost always guys) who have to back into every spot. No, they can't just pull front first into a parking spot like the rest of us. They have to roll past the spot, stomp on the brakes and spend 60 seconds maneuvering into it backwards.

Parking lots are hazards. You've got kids running around, people pushing shopping carts, drivers yakking on cell phones, and idiots playing NASCAR across the lanes.

Here's some advice: Park on the outskirts and walk. It won't kill you. Don't jam your two-ton truck into a spot the size of a MINI Cooper and force the people on either side of you to climb into their cars through the trunks. And for God's sake, if you're not handicapped (as mentioned, fat, lazy, stupid or drunk doesn't count) stay out of the blue spots. Someone else needs them a lot more than you.

And don't think I don't know that a lot of you with handicap plates or permits aren't really handicapped. Just because your grandmother's step-aunt IS handicapped, and once a year you drive her to church, which technically qualifies you to have a handicap tag, that doesn't mean you get to park wherever you want whenever you want.

You know who you are, and I got my eye on you.

Chuck out.

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