Every chance I get, I profess my love for Austin. But, there is a big "BUT." And that is the food. I am a foodie. I love to eat and have had the fortune to try many many wonderful restaurants, especially in my years in advertising media when I was frequently wined and dined by sales reps. And so far, the food in Austin leaves much to be desired. My friend, Joanna, was bemoaning this fact the other day and my response was "I try not to think about it." Yes, Austin rocks so much that I don't even mind having to go to crappy and/or over-priced restaurants.
Even though I have not lived in San Francisco since 2004, I still suffer from a form of post-traumatic-stress-disorder brought on by the hellish nightmare of my days of parking in the city. This became all too clear last night.
I am in the midst of a 4-week class at the University of Texas (UT). Last night, I arrived about 45 minutes early for the 6:00pm class and so I went to park. I obsessively scanned the signs in search of a legal parking place. It goes something like this. Drive around. Look at the signs. Tentatively park. Get out. Look at the sign closer. Are there any disclaimers? Do you need a permit? If so, what are the permit parameters? Are there any weird arrows? Color-coded curbs used to indicate x, y or z? Tell-tale ticket-dispensing vehicles droning around like pesky mosquitoes?
I finally park, but wait in my car for another 20 minutes because the sign says that parking is not legal until 5:45pm. I wait until 5:46pm. One can never be too careful. While waiting for 5:45pm, I see other folks calmly parking, students idling by, and then ... a little golf-cart type car! Wait, is he going to bust me for waiting for this spot? Nope. He doesn't even give me a second glance. When I leave my car, I survey the area one more time, certain there is a parking-oriented pitfall waiting for me.
Yes I am diligent, but after living in San Francisco for five years, I am paranoid to the "nth" degree when it comes to parking. Oh, the nights of circling and circling, looking for a parking spot. Oh, the many parking tickets and trips to retrieve my car from being towed. You see, San Francisco is a whole different animal than Austin. People do not stroll idly there. Everyone is very busy. And, finding a parking spot is like winning the lottery, but a lottery in which the winner would wildly scan the fine print, certain that there is a disclaimer that says, "ha ha, I tricked you ... you can't really park here!"
I remember one time, I went out of town for a week and before doing so, scanned the parking sign and curb. No "do not park" or "only park between x hours" signs around. Curb was the right color. All systems said "ok, park here." When I returned from my trip, my car was gone. I thought for certain, it had been stolen. I walked around and around the blocks, thinking I was maybe mistaken about where I had originally parked my car. But, no. No no no no no no nooooooooo! It was towed. Apparently, a temporary "do not 'park" sign was posted AFTER I left for my trip. When I tried to fight the ticket, the fine folks at the San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency told me that I should have had a friend move my car while I was gone. WTF!
Anyway, when I walked out of class last night and didn't see my car, I thought for certain it was towed. My heart dropped to my feet and all those familiar feelings of panic set in. I reached into my bag to find my cell so that I could tell Barton the bad news. But, a moment later, it was like I had clicked my ruby slippers and arrived in, ahhhh, Austin! There was my car looming like Shangri La up ahead. It was just a little further up than I thought. There were students idling by. Welcome to Austin, Dorothy. You're not in San Francisco anymore.
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