Car park

"There's one, right over there," I said.
"Where?" he asked.
Too late. A guy in a blue van zipped in before my dad could react.
"Shit!" he said.
He drove around for a further fifteen minutes. There were supposedly 500 spaces in the supermarket car park and they were all taken.
"There!" I yelled, pointing slightly to the right ahead of us.
Yet again we were beaten by someone quicker.
"Sod it, I'll just park in a disabled spot," he suggested.
"You can't do that," I replied.
"I can and I will."
"No, you can't because they're all full too."
 "Fucking hell!"
My dad drove around the car park for another five minutes.
"Bollocks to it," he said and ploughed into the back of a small Smart car, testing the quality of the seatbelts and almost giving us both whiplash in the process. The smaller vehicle was accordioned into a wall and we were at best 50% inside the lines.
He put on the handbrake and switched off the engine.
"Seriously?" I asked, but he was already on his way out of the car.