I used to park at the edge of Chinatown and walk to the highrise where I worked. The garage spiraled upward, wending its way through the cavity of an old building supported by a profusion of concrete pillars. Spaces were tight, and it’s a wonder I didn’t clip the corner of the old square wagon that I drove.
More than a few times I ended up crammed next to a spanking new sports car, and by getting out of mine, I would trigger an alarm: “Step away from the car. This car is protected by…Continue