Everyone knows parking is a bit of a gripe of mine. I just can’t wrap my head around the concept of forking out billions of coins every week, to park my car, at a place I have to be. It’s like that quote; “being told you’re no good, at a job that you hate, belongs in a special part of hell”. That’s pretty much the way I feel about paying for parking.
I also think it takes a special kind of person to be a parking inspector. It brings me both great frustration and entertainment watching one such inspector wait out the half an hour and book people the millisecond it runs out. What a life right? I especially love it when he gets that smile on his face when people try to explain that they were just running in to the chemist to get some medicine for their sick husband, or they’re waiting to pick their girlfriend up from work and he replies with “well you just gotta play the game”.
Something I noticed recently though, kind of made me feel sorry for the parking inspectors who are rocking around town, what with the change of conditions and all along Watt Street. You know, the part where they now have to monitor and make sure that cars (and their owners) adhere to a 2 hour parking time limit from between 9pm and midnight? Yeah that one. Maybe the parking inspector big wigs know a bunch of their workers are saving for a big trip overseas so they decided to open up a whole new time slot. Now they get Saturday pay as well as late night Saturday pay? I don’t know how these things work.
Maybe they just love that end of town? It is the East End after all, what a delightful place to spend an autumn evening. I don’t know about you but I don’t know of anywhere else in Newcastle that operates on such parking schedule? 9am to 12midday on a Saturday yeah for sure. Revenue has got to be made somewhere so why not unite the city in our hatred for paying for parking. But how are we meant to complain about it, if it’s in the middle of the night? It’s no where near as fun for anyone involved who says to the universe; “I’m just going to risk it for the biscuit” only to running back to your car to find you just missed the parking inspector doing their rounds. Also, screaming
Stellllaaaaaa No DAMMIT WHY at the top of your lungs at 11pm is just going to wake up the neighbours, and we all know how those on the East End feel about having their REM sleep disrupted.
Anyway, whatever stunt or experiment they’re trying out at the parking headquarters, I really hope it fails. I say that in the nicest way possible in that, I’m really hoping that we don’t move towards a town where we all have to leave our cars in Broadmeadow overnight. I just don’t think it fits in with the new billion dollar tourism vision for the suburb. I mean, “welcome to Broadmeadow, this is where are cars come to die,” just doesn’t have a friendly ring to it.