Making a Living in Chicago
I’ve thought of a way to make a handsome living in Chicago, or in most other cities where people drive cars; it is to own a parking garage. The ideacame to me after driving around to get to an event that I never made it to partially because I couldn’t find parking. I believe that the parking faeries, and whoever’s palms they greased in City Hall, converged to make it so. Everyone knows that their evil stepsister, the ever-present towing companies, are ready to swoop down on those who have either parked in the wrong place or whose meters have expired.
This came to me after eschewing those meters and being given three choices at different garages in downtown Chicago, herein after referred to as “the loop.”
Door Number 1.) All-night parking… $24.00
Door Number 2.) Three hours and a formula I didn’t understand… $21.00 plus
Door Number 3.) I forgot what the other rates were.
After pulling into the Grant Park (south) complex upon being in the wrong lane for the north entrance, I returned one half-hour later, inserted said credit card into a machine and got charged $20.00. Then barreled into the one open office and learned that I did not read the last line of the sign. Did some soul searching after pulling away and had a winter solstice epiphany.
Now, I have tried many things in my life. I’ve been a teacher, a cosmetician, an administrative assistant, even though I only type around 35 words a minute using three fingers and a thumb, and an order processor for an insurance company, which I was fired from for processing some orders incorrectly. D-Day came shortly thereafter the customer said he wanted a stoplight on his insurance form moved from the right to the left, and I, skipping over it altogether, left it where it was. And that was that. But life goes on.
So after that parking episode I came up with an idea and a dream. I am going to build or remodel my very own parking garage. I will charge the usual rates, but mine will come with incentives and perks like lotteries and gift cards to Nordstrom’s, Forever Twenty One and Target (Tar’jet), cookies, coffee and donuts and passes to some cool foot massage places.
However, there would be some mountains to climb than at my insurance and other jobs. One is I am not the kind to grease any palms. In fact, I am the type that enjoys blaspheming those who do, and the second is that I am more than someone who moved further east than west and is from the municipality known of as California (Cal’i’for’nyeah). I am one of thirty-three moderate Republicans in the soul and bosom of Democrat-land, which could be a problem in terms of joining the machine, unless they want a monkey wrench.
But there are many songs and sentiments to get me through. “I will Survive” by disco queen, Gloria Gaynor, is one, or is it “Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen? Only time will tell.
So thank you, amen, over and out and y’all pray for me now, hear?