Last night starting at 11:45 p.m., I spent 30 minutes trying to find the One Available Parking Spot In All Southie. There were evidently Zero. In my 5 years here I have never not been able to park on a Monday night. In this perfect storm, it seems, the combination of massive utility work on W 1st Street and the Tuesday 5-7 am street-cleaning signs on Broadway meant all vehicles on these 2 major thoroughfares were vomited onto side streets.
While waiting at a stoplight, I texted Man from San Francisco:
K (12:06 am): For 20 minutes now i have been crusing for a parking space .... This f#*$ing neighborhood ...Sleeping was among the other things i'd rather have been doing at that hour. Not buying cat litter. Not cruising. Not swearing. Not walking up Broadway in the dark by myself. Not, again, considering the truth of living in a large city: that the accessibility and public services that make it great also make it an insomniac-driven pain.
MSF (12:07): ::Grraar!::
K (12:12): There are so many other things i'd rather be doing ...
MSF (12:14): I can think of one or two ....
K (12:22, after finally scoring): 6 blocks away. Down a hill. I see a large glass of wine in my near future.