I prefer street parking.
No concrete, minus the curb. Those quaint parking metres? Accepting all forms of payment. Impark’s hangTag app. Love it. Forget the long lines.
But parkades? They’re basically jails for vehicles.
In a previous post, I wrote about my fears: tornadoes, bees, and underground parkades. It’s parkades, period. Under or over. If vehicles were meant to be stacked, they’d have Lego on their roofs.
Last month, I was late for a routine appointment with my epileptologist. Technically, I was on time, but I couldn’t find street parking. Time dwindled, I was forced into a six-floor dungeon. The Emily Street parkade.
Maybe it had five or seven floors. I wasn’t going to count.
Continue reading “Help Me, hangTag – I’m Stuck in a Parkade with a Ten Dollar Bill”