L.A. is a nice place to live but I wouldn't want to visit
I’ve been out here about a week now and I’m having a good time except for the fact that I’m constantly reminded I don’t have a place here. More specifically: a place to park.
When I set up this trip, I arranged couch space with friends. We true rock stars keep it real by staying on couches and eschewing those wimpy luxury suites. We true rock stars also forget that L.A. is one large parking lot, and if you don’t have a spot, you ain’t welcome here.
My cool, hip and trendy friends live in Hollywood and West Hollywood, and they all have reserved spots at their apartment complexes. Figuring out if you can park on the street around here requires more reading than a first year law student. I saw a twenty-foot stretch that had 6 different parking signs posted in it.
I even saw a sign at the beginning of the block that read: “Warning, you are about to enter a permit parking neighborhood. Please read all signs before parking.”
That’s right, it’s a parking sign warning you to read the other parking signs. It’s like the emcee of parking signs. “Our first sign this evening comes to you from our street sweeping department...”
Why doesn’t it just read “abandon all hope, ye who park here.”
When I get a place out here I’m sure I’ll love it, but I don’t know what I’ll do with the hours not spent circling the block.