The timeless joy of free parking

I stood in front of the parking meter, scraping snow from the instructions buried behind the glass. Twenty-five cents for half an hour, I finally discerned.

I plopped in a couple of quarters, marvelling that for half a buck, I had a whole hour of time and space. What a bargain.

I really only had a few minutes of things to do, but I dawdled a little, to get my full money's worth.

I was in Hamilton, in a popular shopping district. Ten years ago, meters weren't even here. Same thing in Burlington; they just put in meters with limits last year. This poses more of a problem, because getting my hair cut there takes longer than two hours. (What — you think blond hair just grows on heads?) Unless I can bribe a technician to run out to the meter to jam in another loonie, I have to race outside with more foil on my head than a fridge full of leftovers.

I've been reading a little book by Calvin Trillin called Tepper Isn't Going Out. It follows the fictional rounds of a man in New York City who scouts great parking spots, then occupies them for the full time to which he is entitled.

If you've lived in urban cores, you're probably familiar with the left side-right side conundrum, snow routes and permit parking. Finding on-street parking close to your destination can feel like winning the lottery. Conversely, running out at the appointed time and doing laps around the neighbourhood looking for a new spot can make you a little agitated.

In the book, Tepper is just a mild-mannered guy who sees a great spot as a gift and takes it. It's legal, much to people's chagrin. Just like in a murder trial, proving motive isn't necessary. You can have a parking spot just because you've paid for it.

I think of how much I pay for an hour of other things. I've paid lawyers $400 an hour, and got nowhere near the satisfaction I get from a 50-cent parking spot.

I've trudged through slush and snow to see overrated theatre – four of us, two hours, 300 bucks – when I could have stayed in the comfort of my van for the $10 I gave the parking guy.

Sometimes I'll sit in the car and have a coffee instead of taking up a table in a coffee shop while killing time between out-of-town appointments.

But the downside to sitting in your car for any length of time, as Tepper and I have both discovered, is that people look at you funny. In the book, they start lining up to ask his advice. They figure anyone content enough to sit in his car and just read a paper must have it all figured out. I'll admit I've never been asked for advice, but I have been asked for directions. Mostly I just get asked to move.

Most cars today are pretty comfortable; it's odd you don't see more people just hanging out in cheap parking spots.

You can flip through an $8 magazine as you sip a $6 latte in a shop where people have dogs in their purses, or grab a coffee and read yesterday's newspaper in the back seat. That is, until someone guilts you into moving.

But I'll still jam a few coins into meters about to expire on others. My mother always said you never knew when a little parking karma could pay off.

Lorraine Sommerfeld's column appears Saturday in Wheels and Mondays in

Living. www.lorraineonline.ca