Phantom Parking Ticket

September 14th, 2009

no_parking_sign_slashAllow me paint you a picture.  It’s the last day of August,  a warm Los Angeles afternoon.  I have an improv show and need a little fuel.  On our way to the theatre, Anselm runs into our local coffee house, Chango, for my requisite iced coffee with soy milk.  There’s no available parking, save a red zone, so I stay in the car with the engine running and my hazards flashing.  As Anselm walks the 200 feet back toward the car, his arms filled with beverage, a LA parking violations Prius pulls up behind me.  I assume she is waiting for my spot to ticket the cars parked in the loading zone, so after Anselm gets in the passenger seat, I pull away with a courteous wave.  Two weeks later I get an $80 parking ticket in the mail.  What?! The officer gave no indication that she intended to give me a ticket.  In fact, when I looked in my rear-view as I drove away, she appeared to be texting.

Now, I’m all about respecting rules and laws, and I feel like if anything I generally error on the side of caution, but to issue a ticket to someone that is obviously trying to stay out of the way (I even kept the crosswalk clear) is mean-spirited and an abusive interpretation of the law.  I was mailed a letter along with the citation, explaining that the officer had not been able to leave the ticket on my car.  She could not ticket my car, because my car was not there, because I was not parked.  A cryptic code at the bottom of the citation seems to indicate that I actively refused the citation, which may have increased the fine.  Again, the officer didn’t even look at me, let alone approach me or give any other hint that she was writing me up.  Shouldn’t these officers be required to deliver the tickets in person?  After all, if they are issuing a parking ticket, all they have to do is put it on the windshield.

I submitted an appeal to the city’s online parking citation “contest a ticket” feature, although I had a 500-word limit and was timed out twice trying to complete the form.  I’m staying optimistic, mainly because I assume this particular officer gives these passive tickets often and potentially has multiple contests on her record, but it is her word against mine.  The one element in my favor is that I did not receive a physical copy of the ticket at the time she issued it, which supports my story.  I encourage anyone else that receives one of these absentee tickets to contest and write about it publicly.  Parking laws were created to help the city run more efficiently and safely, not to trap citizens into paying fines.

Bad Service Redeemed at The Arclight

July 3rd, 2009

Anselm and I went to the Arclight, a movie theater in Hollywood.  Integral to the Arclight experience is choosing your seats and avoiding the anxiety over how early to show up to the cinema to get “good” seats.  We bought our tickets 45 minutes before show time, so we got my favorite seats, front and center, with no one in front of me.

When we arrived, the usher said that there had been an issue and a disabled person needed our seats because he could not make it up the stairs.  We were led to center seats in the second row.  Initially, I thought nothing of it and would not have given it another thought had the “disabled” man not turned around to thank us for “switching” seats. His disability appeared to be a sprained foot (for which he needed crutches, but no cast).

It took about ten additional minutes for me to notice that the majority of the front row seats were empty and that there was another entire, empty row of seats that required no stairs.  I also realized that he himself must have selected the seats in the second row.  The issue was not so much that he needed to sit in the front row, it was that he, and his two friends, wanted to occupy our seats, the best in the house.

Part of the Arclight's charm is choosing your own seat.

Part of the Arclight's charm is choosing your own seat.

After the movie, I went to the Guest Services desk.  The woman asked a few logical questions (Did you arrive late?, etc.) before she looked in the computer, saw the seating chart for our showtime and agreed that the usher’s actions had been illogical and presumptuous.  She printed out two “Re-entry” passes, so we will be able to see another movie for free.  She really did her job well, she investigated our story, and offered the appropriate empathy and compensation.

Sometimes the Internet CAN Solve My Troubles!

July 3rd, 2009

Since our driveway is too narrow for the Focus, I rely on street parking and really only like to park in one of the two spots in front of our house (the one nearer our non-functioning driveway is my favorite).  I know that I am irrationally territorial and obsessive about “my” spot, but I can’t seem to prevent myself from getting annoyed when another random car parks there.  In my defense, our street is mostly single-family homes with (real) driveways, so it is at least a little mysterious.  But it’s LA, so each family has at least as many cars as people, sometimes more, and I understand that.  But, imagine my dissatisfaction when not one but TWO separate cars parked in the middle of the two-parking-space-length-curb today.  I was in the middle of writing a polite little note to leave on the dash, when I decided to Google “cars taking up two spaces.”  This search brought me to this fantastic site: http://laughingsquid.com/you-park-like-an-asshole, which includes a bevy of parking woes, pcitures of obnoxious parking jobs, and a classic downloadable PDF to print out and leave on offending windshields.  Coincidentally, the first box on the checklist is “Two spots, one car.”  Thank you internet.  Parking Notification

Gas-powered Quandary

June 29th, 2009

Anselm and I considered writing this up for the NYT Ethicist, but decided to post our dilemma here.  So please read and respond!

Leaf_Blower

We love our house and garden.  Our landlords are incredibly nice and send over a friendly gardener every Monday morning to care for the garden.  His name is Elias and he arrives on his bicycle like clockwork at 9 AM.  The only problem is that he uses a gas-powered leaf blower to tidy up the driveway and garden.  Technically, gas blowers are illegal in LA, but even if they were not, we object to the noise and air pollution they cause.  So, dear readers, we’re not sure what to do.

We feel like it would be inappropriate to ask the gardener directly to use a rake instead of the blower, but we feel like taking the concern to our landlords would make us sound like we are complaining about Elias (and they might think we’re crazy for objecting to a nearly universal gardening technique).

Research, cited at zapla.org, suggests that gas blowers provide no time/labor advantage.  In fact, in an informal study, it took less time/effort to sweep the same surface area than to use a gas blower.   So, should we keep our mouths shut and contribute to the noise pollution we despise, or risk sounding “high-maintenance” and approach the owners?  All input is welcome!

Gum Crimes

June 5th, 2009

Gum-chewing generally annoys me, but watching a grown man spit his gum out the car window, in front of his children, at a gas station where someone else will inevitably step in it, straight up disgusts me.

Extra for Soy? Really, Starbucks?

June 3rd, 2009

This deserves a longer entry, but I challenge Starbucks’ policy to charge extra for soy milk, especially when the customer (ahem, me) just wants a drop in her coffee, not 12 ounces of it in a latte.

Unreceptive — Unreliable Mobile Connections (and it’s not 2002)

June 2nd, 2009

Seven years ago, my boyfriend (now-husband) and I moved into our first place together, a tiny “cottage” in the back yard of a Long Island Colonial.  The total square footage was, at most, 350.  We had a ladder that reached up to a sleeping loft that barely fit a full-sized futon mattress.  We kept our dry food and clothes in the same storage cubby.  It was the ultimate graduate school abode, and Anselm and I were pleased as punch to have our own space, despite its rustic, cubby-hole character.

The only complaint either of us had with the achingly small cottage was the lack of cell reception.  We could excuse the overbearing, Pottery Barn-loving landlady and the hot-plate-in-lieu-of-a-kitchen, but not being able to use our cell phones meant that we had to pay for a “land” line.  Even so, this was 2002, a quaint time when the expectation of constant cell contact had not fully seeped into our society.  In fact, there was only one occasion when the poor coverage was a serious problem.

December 2002, the first serious snow storm of the season hit and my afternoon class was canceled.  Excited, I drove home, parked and shoveled our pathway.  I knew as I was walking back to the front door that I had locked myself out.  Our landlady was away and the weather made walking anywhere  impossible.  I took out my cell phone and prayed for at least one bar.  Nothing.  Luckily,  my car door was unlocked, so I huddled for warmth in the back seat and sent Anselm telepathic messages to come home early, which he did.

2002, a rustic cottage without reception.

2002, a rustic cottage without reception.

Here in 2009, reliable cell coverage is a give-in, at least in the big cities I find myself living.  So, imagine my disappointment May 1, when we moved into our dream rental property, a craftsman-style two-bedroom bungalow in the shady Elysian Heights neighborhood of Echo Park, and I realized my “smart” phone has next to no signal.

Improved weather and general livability, same awful reception!

Improved weather and general livability, same awful reception!

The frustrating aspect of little, as opposed to no, signal is that I can begin a phone conversation, but inevitably it will break-up at a key moment.  For example, I’m sitting at the excellent coffee shop Fix, and as I’m setting up a job interview.  I get three minutes into explaining my qualifications and experience, before the woman says “Sorry, you’re breaking up.  Call back when you have better reception.”

I’m not a mobile technology expert, so I’m not sure exactly what keeps my neighborhood (two miles from downtown Los Angeles!) from being competently covered by my service provider.  So, once again, we might need to travel back in time and get the antiquated land line.  Until then, please be patient with me!

In Brief — Single sentence “compliants”, #1

February 7th, 2009

Today, while walking through Silverlake, an impatient driver honked at me for being in the crosswalk with the walk signal.

On the Other Hand — LA is Vegan Heaven!

January 31st, 2009

I have intended to start a new category on this blog: Things that go right, and are unexpectedly problem-free.  I’ve named it “On the Other Hand.”

For my inaugural look into the bright side I’d like to turn to my recent conversion to veganism, which certainly seemed like it was going to be a huge pain.  I’ve been solidly vegetarian for nine years, and had patchy stretches of veggie-ism since I was 13.  Starting January 1, both Anselm and I converted to a vegan diet, in an effort to look closer at how our food is processed.  I expected to never eat in a restaurant again and consume very bland food.  BUT, our experience has been quite the opposite.

Aside from feeling physically better than I have in years, I have never been this excited about food.  We cook delicious meals and decadent deserts and never feel gross or overstuffed after eating.  I literally am eating more now than I ever have and a greater variety of food, which makes for a far more balanced diet.

There are several excellent vegan eateries in the LA culinary landscape.  From genuinely fine white linen dining to diner-like cafes, we have enjoyed the variety and quality of vegan eateries.  The quality of food is always better, always organic and I have not once suffered heartburn after a meal.

Tonight we went to a wine store in Hollywood and one of the employees spent a long time showing us the different vegan wine options (most wines are filtered using milk proteins and fish extracts).  In general, veganism has opened our eyes to a secret fraternity of fellow vegans that are always willing to help and swap tips about food and drink. There is a bar in Echo Park that has a vegan potluck happy hour, which we are really excited to attend!

In a city where we often feel adrift and a bit alienated, veganism has created a community that we belong to, which is a definite perk to an already great life choice.  I know that veganism isn’t for everyone, nor is Los Angeles, but we are enjoying both.

Price-whine dot scam

January 24th, 2009

I know, not the most clever title! I heard a news story about a chiropractor suing a former patient that posted a negative review on YELP. I think that the aforementioned lawsuit is ridiculous. YELP removed the post. Why sue the patient for libel? So . . . I will, from this point on, not mention any business names in a negative context.

Around the holidays, I successfully used a “name your own” travel website to book a Manhattan hotel and was very pleased with the value and quality of the hotel, which I got for about 60% off the published rate. Last weekend, Anselm and I were planning a one-night getaway to San Diego, so I naturally turned to the same site.

This site lets you choose your neighborhood, but the neighborhood divisions for San Diego were nonsensical, which should have scared me off. We booked a hotel in “downtown,” planning to explore the Gaslamp district, and perhaps, the Embarcadero, on foot.

CUT TO: Several hours later our GPS has us turn off at the airport exit. Uh oh. I still have hope because we’re 2.5 miles away and if we turned left we’d be . . . Nope, Kenneth (our name for the GPS) tells us to turn right. This site booked us at the airport Sheraton. Hotel airports no doubt have their use, but for a romantic night on the town, I can’t think of a less relaxing environment. The airport is definitely not downtown San Diego and not what we agreed to in the bidding process.

We called. We argued. Customer service agreed to change our hotel, for a twenty-five dollar fee, if we booked another hotel through them. Fine. We found a hotel we actually wanted to stay at and called back. They booked it. We had a nice time.

Upon checkout we received an invoice that was about sixty dollars cheaper than the travel site’s rate. For some reason both the travel site and the hotel charged us. When we asked customer service about the price discrepancy, they explained that the needed to make a profit. A profit indeed. Had we not been obliged to rebook through this site, why would we pay an extra sixty dollars for the privilege of bad costumer service? We resolved the extra hotel charge, but by going through said travel site, we were overcharged a total of eighty-five dollars (the cost of the original room).

Throughout the process customer service was semi-hostile and reluctant to help. They obviously weren’t familiar with San Diego and couldn’t seem to read a map. We thought about writing a letter, but their site only has a customer feedback form with a strict character limit. I searched for complaints related to this site and came upon a Consumer Affairs article with several customer stories, which is definitely worth reading if you are still tempted to bid on a hotel, flight or vacation package.

What I most disliked about this experience was this company’s lack of accountability and flexibility. I understand the premise of the site and its rules, but find the process misleading and “tricky.” They prey upon the general gambling mentality of their customers and offer no service aside from the possibility, not guarantee, of a “deal.” Anselm and I will never again book any travel through this site. We are glad that we had this experience before booking our upcoming Hawaiian vacation.