The predominant strategy for parking in Los Angeles is to find the closest available space to the entrance of wherever it is you're going. This is flawed thinking, at least when parking at the ArcLight Hollywood. Drive, drive, around the back, all the way up to the top. Let everyone else waste the precious minutes of their lives searching for the 24 spaces left on P3 that are promised to them by a digital display just inside the main gate. Get to the roof and you will be rewarded with acres of empty spots, not to mention some of the best views [...]
"It is a cliché almost as old as the motor car itself, and the subject of many a sexist joke. But the idea that women cannot park is simply untrue, according to research indicating that female drivers are more adept than men at manoeuvring into a space."
For reasons complicated and uninteresting, I found myself driving a car around the Lower East Side yesterday morning, looking for a parking spot. Stopped at a red light at Canal and Eldridge, singing along with Soundgarden's "Fell On Black Days," which Matt Pinfield was playing on 101.9, I saw a man walking down the street carrying an axe. It was a large axe, not a hatchet. He held it in both hands, handle across his chest, the wide, sharp wedge of it's blade glinting in the sunshine on an otherwise normal day.