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INSTALLMENT II: TOO MANY CARS, TOO FEW PARKING SPACES
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There are definitely little tricks to surviving with an automobile in San Francisco. Going out to eat for instance: you never decide on a place to eat; you find a parking place and then you find a place to go. It is wild! I have literally ridden around for an hour in a location that I wanted to go, finally given up.
I've actually seen the figures on how the number of cars actually outnumber the spaces. Crazy and people park everywhere and they get tickets. The City gets something like three million dollars a year just from parking tickets. The cheapest ticket is $35. My daughter actually got one for $250 for parking in a bus stop, like five minutes.
I've actually been towed three times. The first was when my in-laws visited me for the first time. The tow away zones are like a giant mystery. The people who make the rules never drive so they have no idea how it works I'm convinced. I think it has to do with adding more lanes during the rush periods. Anyway, my in-laws are with me and they want to visit my wife at her office. We stop in front of the office and I take them up, a couple of minutes max. I know the dangers of "tow." I run back downstairs and the tow truck is hooking my car to his truck. I plead, I beg. Sorry! "The rule is that once you are hooked up, you owe money".- One hundred thirty-five bucks later, I have my car and all the good will of San Francisco has shot out the window for my in-laws. They never came for another visit.
The last time I was towed, also very interesting. It wasn't too long after 9-11. My buddy and I were scheduled to go to Vietnam and then 9-11 and all was cancelled. He wanted me to get his refund back from the travel agency, I ventured to the guts of San Francisco,i.e., the financial district. The parking was non existence and here was a space, but it would have taken Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind to figure out who could park there. It had about fourteen sets of instructions; if it was Monday or a truck or you had blood type B; anyway, I took a chance, could not have been gone more than fifteen minutes. You guessed it, I get back and no car. But, I was so confused: did I park it here, maybe the next street over, finally, I figure, towed! I whip out my cell and call the tow number which is listed everywhere or maybe I called the operator. Anyway, I finally get through and give the operator my license number. They don't have it. Oh no! My car has been stolen and I have my computer and a whole parcel of stuff in it. Help. I call the number back and she says where was your car parked. I tell her and she says, "we wouldn't know, this is San Mateo." What! San Mateo is 20 or so miles south of the City. I am so relieved that my car has been towed and not stolen that I'm happy.
I catch a taxi to the impound yard only to discover that the tow truck has not even arrived with my car yet. Great. And, then as I'm waiting, I'm seeing the underbelly of the City. It is probably true of any large city, but there are mothers with babies, immigrants, a couple of scam artists and several in this mix that are indescribable- twenty or so milling around this dingy waiting room waiting to get their cars out of impound. I feel so very sorry for everybody. The poor always suffer the most, regardless.
Some of their cars are towed because of not being registered or expired registration. "How can she work with no car," a mother with two small children pleads. She's talking to a clerk who has a bored look. The clerk doesn't say it or maybe she does, "I don't make the rules." A midget in the system. The mother doesn't elicit much sympathy and the fact she has tattoos everywhere probably doesn't help. I do genuinely feel sorry for one family, Mexican I think. They look so forlorn. They are counting their money. I decide that if it isn't too much I might help out. This is a tricky thing, how to do this? Finally my car shows up and I pay and leave. The young Mexican couple is still there and looking forlorn.
My car has been damaged while being towed. I get the paperwork and fill it out. For three months I called to see where my claim stands. I finally give up. They out waited me. The towing company that had the contract for the City has been sued for millions: get this, by San Francisco for scamming them on fees, selling impound cars. What a racket!!!! In some ways, the City and the towing company deserve each other. They were like an extremely dysfunctional family that finally got a divorce.
PARKING ON THE STREET
Street parking is no small thing if you live in San Francisco. What I've done is make a game out of it. You are only suppose to park on the street for two hours and then you get a ticket, but very hard for them to monitor. You actually can get a sticker if you live in the neighborhood but what I've done (am going to get legal) is find a parking spot way away from where we live. Then I run to the apartment and a couple of times a day, I check on my car to make sure I don't have a ticket or it is towed. Plus, you have to make sure that you don't park in a spot where they do street cleaning. It gives the times and the days but I never see them doing it. Regardless, by the end of the day, I've logged in a mile or two running back and forth to my car. Plus, every time I'm out which is lots for an ADD guy, eight or ten times a day, I usually check. Great physical training.
INSTALLMENT I: THE BUSES OF THE HAVES AND HAVE-NOTS
INSTALLMENT II: TOO MANY CARS, TOO FEW PARKING SPACES
INSTALLMENT III: In North Carolina I THOUGHT GAY MEANT HAPPY
INSTALLMENT IV: Thank Vietnam FOR INTRODUCING ME TO FRISCO
INSTALLMENT V: THE MAYOR WHO THOUGHT HE WAS KING
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