There are three new, six-unit multiplexes on my street. That could mean an additional 36 cars vying for parking spaces on the block.
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He was entirely polite about it. He knocked on my door and asked me not to park in front of his house.
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He’s new to the block but I recognized his face as I approached the door. I explained that I rarely parked on the street. Multiple break-ins and hit-and-run events had made me seek the protection of parking anywhere but the street. Not that that had saved me.
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I have a wheelchair accessible back door. It gets used for more for things like unloading from a Costco run than handicapped access. One morning I woke up to see two of my car doors wide open. My first thought was, “You left your car doors open over-night, dummy!” My next thought was, “How come there’s stuff all over the patio …?” Turned out a swashbuckling thief in the night had broken into my car undaunted by the fact that it was parked practically in my kitchen. I’m sure he found the illumination from the motion sensors helpful as he ransacked the car’s contents.
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Another time, I discovered my car had been rifled on the street after someone had popped open the lock with a screwdriver, necessitating both a new lock and a new door. The astonishing thing was that this act of vandalism hadn’t tripped the car’s alarm system. On another occasion, a vehicle clipped my sideview mirror so that it dangled like a chandelier earring; the many construction trucks in my neighbourhood tend to take the corner badly and drive over my lawn.
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These incidents illustrate why I have a locked garage and gated driveway. Thousands of dollars in insurance deductible expenses taught me never to leave my car on the street for very long. If I was just making a pit stop, however, I might briefly park on the street under the shade of a big, old willow.
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Although the neighbour’s request surprised me, I offered full cooperation. I explained that I parked in front of his house fewer than a dozen times a year and only for a few hours, at that. I assured him that, going forward, I’d find somewhere else on those occasions. The whole conversation was brief and genial.
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Years before this particular conversation, the neighbour on the other side of me had also spoken to me on the same subject. Four or five adults lived in the neighbouring house; I lived alone. The garage for this neighbouring house is up a steep set of lengthy stairs at the back of the property; the occupants almost always parked out front of the house. Who could blame them?
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Now, given the choice, I’m always going to park as close to my house as possible. There’s rarely a day when I’m not in pack-animal mode, lugging home groceries, garden supplies, maybe an anvil.
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Be that as it may, one day the daughter next door told me I was not to park in front of their house. She wasn’t polite about it. I protested. I told her that I would only park in front of their house if there was no other option. I also mentioned that they often have five cars parked on the street whereas I had one car. I also mentioned that, uh, you know, I can actually park anywhere on the street that I choose. And, for the record, I have never once asked anyone not to park in front of my house.
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So far, there are three new, six-unit multiplexes on my street. That could mean an additional 36 cars vying for parking spaces on the block. Yup, it’s going to get interesting. And, for thieves in the night, lucrative.
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QUESTION: PARKING, MULTIPLEXES, NEIGHBOURS – IS IT ABOUT TO GET UGLY?
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Jane Macdougall is a freelance writer and former National Post columnist who lives in Vancouver. She writes The Bookless Club every Saturday online and in The Vancouver Sun. For more of what Jane’s up to, check out her website, janemacdougall.com
