Thursday, February 28, 2008

F'ing Parking!

Driving in the city has to be one of the 9 circles of hell. First of all, I drive a stick. To those of you who don’t understand what this means, it means don’t pull right up on my ass when were on a hill!

I swear. Sometimes I think about putting a bumper sticker on the back of my car that simply says, bad with stick-stay off my ass. But I fear this might be greatly misinterpreted in some parts of town. I could start a parade by accident.

We all know the special hell that is returning late at night to your place only to spend the next half hour searching for a parking space. You become Goldie Locks.
That space is too small, that space is street cleaning tomorrow, that space would be just right if that dick weed who parked in front of me would of pulled up a few more inches!

That’s the thing. After you have driven in the city for a while, you look at every possible space, even if you’re walking, and ask yourself, “Could my car fit there?”
The entire city turns into one life size game of Tetris. You can’t turn it off. I will be in a conversation with someone and see a car pull out of a space. All I can think of how much I was turning the corner in my car at this moment. Have you ever just said fuck it? You know the ticket will cost you $20.00, but so would a night in the garage.
I will pay ridiculous amounts of money to park in a garage run by greasy men in stained blue overalls. This is why the homeless don’t get the money they use to. Everyone keeps it for meters or garages. I bet if we lowered the price of parking garages in the city, we could set aside at least one level in each one for a homeless shelter. The homeless get a place with a roof and we get inexpensive parking.

I never remember where I parked in garages anyway. I know I should write it down, but its like Easter when I was a kid. Where did I park that damn car? I think I have a better system than numbers and letters. A system that takes advantage of San Francisco’s uniqueness.
Divide up the different levels and sections by smells.
“Where did we park?”
“Level pot smoke, section over powering stench of urine.”
“That’s right.”
Tell me that wouldn’t work!

1 comment:

Sandy said...


My sister used to live in San Francisco, before she moved to Seattle. Many times a trip to taco bell would require her running in and my doing circles.

I can't imagine having to deal with that daily...

"life size game of Tetris..." HA!!:D

As for forgetting where you parked, even in a small town... I have to park in exactly the same spot. I once was mere seconds from calling the police and reporting my car stolen once... because I didn't park in the same spot.