Day 141 — Me Vs. The Parking Garage
[for May 21]
It's funny that FearlessVK has a post up about parking garages and car-related woes today, because I had my own parking garage-related hijinks after I left, of all places, her downtown apartment tonight.
This is what greeted me upon trying to exit the parking garage a couple of blocks from her place:
An unmovable wall of metal, locked in place by unseen forces. (Is this normal? It seems kind of weird that you'd be unable to get out of a public parking garage after a certain time. What about if you had an emergency? Was something just not working right? Why wouldn't the damn gate open?!?)
There is nothing quite like realizing that your ass is about to be trapped inside a parking garage all night as the sun sinks below the horizon. Suddenly I had to think of ways to get home, ways to come back and get my car, the money that would require, etc. So, resourceful as ever, I called every posted phone number on the damn walls. I talked to some random guard shack attendant at the Peabody Place, who was understandably confused about my ordeal.
"I am inside a garage — I don't know the name and I can't see the sign — but the gate is down and locked and I can't get out and no one's at the guard shack and I'd really like to leave."
According to the posted hours (see Fig. 2), I was within the time of uninhibited entry and exit (see Fig. 3). But no matter; whoever lowered the gates gave not a fuck as to the poor douchebags paked inside who might need to, you know, leave. So I sat and waited for surprised guard shack guy to contact someone who could help me out. And then I saw the number for the company that operates the door gates. Thank Zeus and his ungrateful children that someone was actually manning the switchboard. The helpful woman whose name I did not catch alerted a technician and sent him my way.
But the story has an even happier ending: Someone came gliding in through the entrance, leaving enough of a window of time for me to speed out of. The taste of relief was palpable. I called the helpful lady back and had her cancel my rescue request. She seemed as relieved as I was.
If only I had parked at Parking Can Be Fun!
It's funny that FearlessVK has a post up about parking garages and car-related woes today, because I had my own parking garage-related hijinks after I left, of all places, her downtown apartment tonight.
This is what greeted me upon trying to exit the parking garage a couple of blocks from her place:
An unmovable wall of metal, locked in place by unseen forces. (Is this normal? It seems kind of weird that you'd be unable to get out of a public parking garage after a certain time. What about if you had an emergency? Was something just not working right? Why wouldn't the damn gate open?!?)
There is nothing quite like realizing that your ass is about to be trapped inside a parking garage all night as the sun sinks below the horizon. Suddenly I had to think of ways to get home, ways to come back and get my car, the money that would require, etc. So, resourceful as ever, I called every posted phone number on the damn walls. I talked to some random guard shack attendant at the Peabody Place, who was understandably confused about my ordeal.
"I am inside a garage — I don't know the name and I can't see the sign — but the gate is down and locked and I can't get out and no one's at the guard shack and I'd really like to leave."
According to the posted hours (see Fig. 2), I was within the time of uninhibited entry and exit (see Fig. 3). But no matter; whoever lowered the gates gave not a fuck as to the poor douchebags paked inside who might need to, you know, leave. So I sat and waited for surprised guard shack guy to contact someone who could help me out. And then I saw the number for the company that operates the door gates. Thank Zeus and his ungrateful children that someone was actually manning the switchboard. The helpful woman whose name I did not catch alerted a technician and sent him my way. But the story has an even happier ending: Someone came gliding in through the entrance, leaving enough of a window of time for me to speed out of. The taste of relief was palpable. I called the helpful lady back and had her cancel my rescue request. She seemed as relieved as I was.
If only I had parked at Parking Can Be Fun!
Labels: downtown, my special stupidity, project 365
posted by theogeo | 5/22/2007 12:46:00 AM
4 Comments:
Every time I see (or park in) Parking Can Be Fun!, I just laugh. The name totally tickles me, always has.
now i understand why it's called Parking Can Be Fun! it IS fun compared to the other parking garages in town, because it never LOCKS YOU INSIDE.
Well-done with the pics! You could be a journalist, ya know …
a parking garage that closes? All the more reason to ride a bike.
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