About a year ago I realized I was paying too much for parking. The GP parking lot was very nice and the walkover bridge made it extremely convenient but parking on the street was a lot cheaper. It seemed the only sensible thing to do. My opportunity cost, the value of the most valuable alternative given up when you choose to use a resource in a particular way, for staying in the GP lot was just too high. I took the elevator to the ground floor and told the office manager that I was moving out of the GP lot. “We are sorry to lose your business,” he said. “May I ask why you are leaving us?”
“Too expensive.” I smiled.
Parking on the street, while a lot cheaper, did have some disadvantages. The down sides included rain, wind, weather, and a whole lot of aggressive panhandlers. Still it seemed by far the best decision all things considered.
Everything was fine for a few months. Then things began to go south. I arrived before sunrise one morning and stuffed my $3.00 into the slot under the appropriate number in the money box. When I returned to my vehicle that evening I was shocked to see that my front and back driver’s side wheels were booted. A bright sticker on my window warned me not to attempt to drive away. “Duh.”
I dialed the 800 number on that sticker and tried to explain. They promised to have someone there soon. Thirty minutes later a young man arrived. He was carrying a clip board and a pen. “Why did you boot my car?” I asked in my calmest possible voice.
“Because you didn’t pay.” He said.
“You are mistaken,” I said. “I did pay.” There are no receipts given when you stuff dollar bills into the slots at this lot so I was doing my best to sound honest.
The young man shook his head. “50 cents short,” He said.
“No way!” I said. “I’ve been parking here for months. I know I paid $3.00”
“The price is 3.50,” he said.
“When did the price go up?” I asked.
“Last night.” He said. “There’s the sign.” He pointed.
“How much is the charge to remove the boots?” I asked.
“Fifty dollars.” He said.
“Fifty dollars! But I’m only 50 cents short.” I exclaimed.
“Fifty dollars.” He said.
Exasperated, I handed him a credit card. “You know I’ll never park here again.” I was unable to hide the anger in my voice.
He smirked and handed me a receipt. “Someone else will.” The boot bandit took out his keys and set my captured vehicle free.
Despite this setback I felt that my opportunity cost for parking in the GP lot was still very high. To avoid any possibility of being booted again I moved to my next best alternative. It was a parking lot several blocks away from the headquarter building. It meant a longer walk with more rain, wind, weather, and a whole lot more panhandlers, including one particularly aggressive fellow who promised to protect my car from harm each day for a reasonable fee. Despite the attempted blackmail, I felt it was worth it to park in this lot because it had a machine that gave me a receipt. You simply put the receipt on your dash and you are good to go. I figured I was safe from the boot bandit at least.
In the months that followed I noticed that there were a lot of folks getting boots placed on their wheels in this new lot too. Since everybody got a receipt I suspected these were mostly people who were trying to get away with parking without paying. That’s what I thought until one day I talked to one of the boot victims. It was an older woman in a business suit. She reminded me of my mother.
“What happened,” I said. “Did you forget to put your receipt on your dash?”
“No,” She said. “I paid. I put the receipt on my dash. They did this.” She pointed to the boots on her front and back wheels. “So, I called the number. They claim that I moved my car during the day and returned to the same slot.”
“Did you?” I asked. “Did you leave and come back?”
“No.” She said. “I’ve been at work in my office several blocks from here all day long. “I never left the building.”
As we were chatting a car pulled up and a young man stepped out. He had a clip board and a pen. The young man ignored the woman’s insistence that she had not moved her car and demanded $50.00. She paid. The boot bandit smirked and set her vehicle free.
The next morning it rained. I arrived at the parking lot early. Although I was planning to find a new lot with honest ownership I hadn’t begun my search yet. So I put my credit card into the machine expecting a receipt. Nothing happened. Just then another patron drove up beside me. He rolled his window down. “The Machine’s broke,” he said.
“Thanks.” I shook my head.
The rain was picking up. Naturally, I had an early morning meeting with no time to spare. I pulled into the lot next door. It was one of those where you stuff the money into a slot. No receipt. It didn’t seem to matter in this land of the boot bandit anyway so I parked and hurried over to the money box. I rolled a dollar bill carefully and pressed. Try as I would I could not get it into the slot. In frustration, I moved my car to another slot and ran back through the rain to the money box. The second slot was also very tight. I managed to get one dollar in but the second dollar got stuck half-way. I tried and tried to press the dollar fully into the slot. The rain picked up. Finally, in frustration I gave up. One dollar was lost, sunk cost, but the other one, was stuck half way so I tried to retrieve it. I pulled gently, and then a little harder, and a little harder. The dollar split in half. More sunk cost. “Ya!”
I was really running out of time so I pulled into the lot next to the building. Every parking space was full. The rain pounded down in sheets. It was at that moment that I realized that my opportunity cost, the value of the most valuable alternative given up when you choose to use a resource in a particular way, for not parking in the GP parking lot was now higher than all of my outdoor alternatives. Without hesitation I pulled into the GP parking building. I parked on the fifth floor. I took the elevator down to the ground floor. I walked into the parking garage office. The office manager said, “Good morning sir. Don’t I know you?”
“Yes. You know me and I’m back. I’d like to sign up for monthly parking again,” I said. He handed me a form.
“You know,” I said. “I really like parking here a lot.”
“Glad to have you back.” He smiled.
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