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She may be a stereotype, but like the elusive Bigfoot, she does exist … the Little Old Lady in the Great Big Car. I encountered her in the parking lot at McDonald's last week and, true to stereotype, she used a parking space and a half to dock her boat.

Here's how we met:

I had an unusual half hour to myself one morning and decided to indulge in a characteristic Lynn-lapse: coffee and calories at Mickey Dee's. I enjoyed my morning paper, gobbled the McMuffin and sipped my coffee. When I was done, I tidied up my table then headed out the door with a nearly full cup of coffee.

I am not a fast drinker of coffee. Under the right circumstances, a cup of coffee can last me for an hour or more. I don't mind the gradual transition from hot to lukewarm to cold. The cooling process is part of my coffee ritual.

So, leaving McDonald's I had a steaming styrofoam cup as my to-go treat.

When I walked outside, I noticed big blue boat of a car parked next to my modest tan sedan. I paused at the rear bumper of my car. Two reasons for the pause: 1) I could not go any farther and 2) I could not figure out what to do next.

As I get older, I find that it takes me longer to assimilate information and decide what to do next. I stared at the two cars: big blue boat … modest mid-size. Eventually, my brain put the pieces together. The space between my car and the big blue boat was so small that I could not squeeze into the space and open the door on the driver's side of my car.

"Okay, what are you going to do now?" my brain asked itself. During the ensuing pause, my brain gathered more information … the driver of the big blue boat was exiting her vehicle. Sadly, she reinforced my stereotype.

Out of the driver's door of the big blue boat stepped a very small, very old lady. Her hair was dyed red and curled tight. She had applied rouge and lipstick with happy abandon. The expression on her face reminded me of Aunt Clara on Bewitched, befuddled and content.

I watched her totter into McDonald's, oblivious to the dilemma she had created for me.

My brain returned to assessing the situation and seeking solutions. Gradually it dawned on me that I would have to enter my car through the passenger's side and crawl over the gear shift into the driver's seat. This, I thought, should be easy.

I opened the passenger's door, placed my coffee cup into the coffee holder and plopped into the passenger's seat. From there, all I had to do was hoist my body over the center panel … gear shift, cup holders and various amenities provided by the savvy Saturn engineers.

I counted to three and hoisted … not quite past the center panel. Actually, I sat on my coffee cup. My verbal response to sitting on hot coffee was not socially acceptable.

From the hot, coffee-saturated center panel, I hoisted myself once again and landed in the driver's seat. My coat was soaked; my pants were soaked; my center console was soaked; the passenger's seat was soaked. Aunt Clara was enjoying her Egg McMuffin.

Perhaps that episode was payback for my believing that all little old ladies drive great big cars. Certainly there are many women, not unlike myself, who drive small and/or modest mid-size cars. We blend into traffic and into parking spaces. We travel unnoticed.

Maybe there is only one little old Aunt Clara in a big blue boat, stalking me and amusing herself by annoying me. I'm just not sure. I don't think clearly after sitting in hot coffee.

-Lynn Albright

Lynn Albright is a South Dakota author. Her career has included writing for newspapers and education organizations. Now sort-of-retired, she is working to overcome her distrust of technology and start blogging. In addition to wrestling with technology, Lynn is a proud member of the Baby Boom generation and is working on her first novel.