The Screws of the Man (part 2)

(2004 travel saga continued: prelude, Trip Prep; The Screws of The Man: Part 1)

The next two days I agonized over the efficacy of every possible alternative to paying $112.75 for a temporary No Parking sign permit. If not for the damn cable cars, it'd be more doable, but I live by an intersection with 3 lines running. I could:

Double-park and load as much as possible before having to lock the studio and drive around the block to get out of the way of cable cars every 10-20 minutes. Or double-park and load up between 1:30 AM and 6 AM when the cable cars do not run. Once done, I'd still need to find a parking space (which could easily take hours), so I could go back to sleep until a reasonable hour so I can be functional when I drive. Not having renter's insurance, I'd just have to hope my car wouldn't get broken into again before I left. Why they don't offer coverage I could tack onto my auto insurance, I'll never understand.

Park in the driveway across the street, if it's not already blocked (which it typically is) and haul stuff across while dodging cars and cable cars, particularly the one that swings around the corner without stopping, and hope none of the myriad tourists and pedestrians decide to walk off with a souvenir while I'm getting the next load from the studio.

Park on the sidewalk in front of the studio, assuming the way in is not blocked already by someone parked in front of the fire hydrant, and then hope not to get ticketed for doing so.

Park in front of the fire hydrant on the corner (if someone else hasn't already) and try to get all the tourists standing in the street waiting for a cable car to move out of the way, all the while hoping not to get ticketed.

Spend days driving around the block looking for a legit space, knowing that if I actually find one on my block, I then risk getting ticketed because of street cleaning if I find the space before the day I'm leaving.

Try to swoop in apres street cleaning for a spot: this is useless though because no one actually moves their vehicles; they all risk getting ticketed instead.

Enlist help to keep an eye on my stuff while my car is parked further away, and I haul stuff, except that everybody I know works or has class the day I want to leave.

Or finally, I could park in the Public Utilities Commission zone in the next block over and haul stuff while risking a ticket. Most of those spots are less than ideal, however -- as are many legit ones nearby -- because they involve walking steeply uphill.

What then, is the monetary value of the possible hassles I may have to endure, and how much satisfaction will I derive from depriving The Man once I'm actually trying to load my car?

NEXT>>>

One mighty prolific day a year ago at TTaT: It's never to late to call your blog (#9), Audioblog #10, Pants on Fire, Anytime after six, Victoire! Victoire!
tags: travel, parking+permits, moving