The Double-Parkers Who Believe the World Revolves Around Them

Every society is judged by its weakest link. In Malaysia, that link often comes with hazard lights blinking confidently in the middle of the road. Yes—the double-parker, the national symbol of entitlement, convenience, and absolute disregard for other people’s time.

Double-parkers don’t park. They occupy. They stop wherever it suits them, abandon the car like it’s a temporary art installation, and stroll off with the calm assurance of someone who truly believes the universe will wait. The logic is flawless in their head: “I’ll be quick.” Quick, apparently, is a flexible concept that can stretch anywhere from two minutes to half an hour.

The hazard lights deserve special mention. In Malaysia, hazard lights are not a warning—they’re a permission slip. Once switched on, the driver feels morally protected from consequences. Blocking traffic? Hazard lights. Causing a jam? Hazard lights. Making 20 people late? Hazard lights. As if blinking orange lights magically erase selfish behaviour.

And let’s not pretend this only happens in quiet streets. Double-parkers love peak hours. Outside schools. In front of banks. Near eateries during lunch rush. They choose chaos deliberately, then act offended when someone honks. How dare others be inconvenienced by their inconvenience?

The most impressive skill of the double-parker is selective awareness. They hear honks, but don’t respond. They see traffic pile up, but don’t rush. They know they’re wrong, but feel no urgency—because consequences rarely find them. Someone else will wait. Someone else will suffer. That’s the system.

This behaviour thrives not because Malaysians don’t know better, but because too many think rules apply only when inconvenient to ignore. It’s the same mindset that cuts queues, blocks escalators, and stops suddenly in doorways.

Double-parking isn’t about lack of parking. It’s about lack of respect. Respect for time. Respect for space. Respect for other human beings trying to get through their day.

Until Malaysians stop excusing selfishness as “normal” and start calling it what it is, the roads will remain clogged—not just with cars, but with people who genuinely believe their errand matters more than everyone else’s life.