My hours have changed, no longer do I work the wonderful hours of 7.15am to 4pm and I've discovered something.... something evil with where I park my car. That, men pretending to be women and gentlemen, is Jockey Parking.
Now when I first heard of this, possibly like you, I had pictures of people riding around on little dudes with high pitch voices riding horses being parked in the spare spots in the car park. No, my suprisingly fun mental image was not to be. Instead it's where I now arrive at 8.30 and get told where to park my car and hand over my keys so that someone I don't even know can drive my car around the car park as to fit even more cars in. Now yesterday I tolerated it due to the fact I was running a little late and couldn't be bothered questioning the lady I was giving my keys too... during the day my car moved from the second level to the basement. That was a bastard to get out of.
Today I get there and the nice gentleman told me "park anywhere along here"... of which there was two choices. Neither of which would have been great to get into due to being the size of a chihuahuas butthole so I decided to loop around. I took the ramp up a level which , to my dismay was full. Never mind - I went up to the roof.... which was so packed full of cars I figured the only way the people were going to get down was lauching - stunt man style - through the walls and onto the streets below. It was like some freak-child blend of a Woolies car park and a normal inner city carpark. My only option was to reverse back... "Ohshit" there was car parked behind me... slowly and with great caution I rolled my beloved Magna backwards... and scraped the front bumper on their stupid bastard guard barriers.
I somehow managed to get back down a level without flipping out and just parking on the ramp and going to work. I find a spot that I can get into and step out where I am greeted by the nice gentleman with his shit eating grin.
"Go for a tour to the roof huh?"
"Yeh"
"Yeah if I'm down here it means the roof is full"
"No kidding?"
I think that's about when I drew my blade and slashed out his voice box, punched a hole in his sternum and kicked his head off all the way to work - yes, even up the stairs where I sat it on a stick and pretended he was a Bobble-Head all day while answering calls from the most intelligent and polite customers on Earth.
In all - I'll be looking for alternative parking spots while I'm on this shift.
kunikoson August 29 2006 19:09:27
Yeah, I've had to do that sort of thing before. Except there wasn't a parking attendant at all. I don't think there are many parking structures in the SF bay area that have people who will go anywhere except an optional little booth at the bottom exit where they rob you blind.
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