Once I managed to park my car in a tiny space, made tiny because of the flashy sports car that was trying to take up 2 spaces. I managed to get out of the car without damaging his. (did I mention this was Christmas time and the parking garage was full, full, full.)
When I returned with my purchases, I was accosted by that car owner (a guy, of course - showing off for his girlfriend) and a police man. Arrest her! he said. What? I said to the policeman, You need to arrest him. Look at that? He parked way over into my parking space. The car guy was soooo mad. He claimed that he had taken two spaces in order to protect his car. He accused me of scratching his car with my car door and insisted that I unlock my car and open the driver's door to prove that my door matched the scratches on his car. Sure, I said and did it. They did NOT match. (Did I mention that I was pregnant at the time and actually did need to open my car door wider than normal.) After a lot of huffing and puffing and swearing at the cop who refused to arrest me, he pulled out of the parking space and left.
Actually, those scratches might have been made by my car, no matter how careful I'd been, because when I got out of the car, my weight placed the car door at a different angle than opening the car door with nobody in the car. I knew that, but didn't tell those men, because what man in those days thought that any woman knew anything about cars? 🙂