It’s always amusing to hear people say they avoid downtown Spokane because of parking hassles.
Maybe these folks are afraid to compete. Perhaps they have never known the satisfaction of finding a curbside miracle spot just a block and a half from their destination.
To borrow a phrase, that smells like victory.
At night, after the coin-fed meters are off duty, the hunt for a perfect parking place takes on the added dimension of celebrating cheapness. To a true Spokanite, what could be better?
OK, compared to the circling-buzzards situation in certain other cities, finding a parking spot in downtown Spokane usually isn’t all that brutal. Still, there are nights when it takes aptitude, patience and luck. But that’s when we find out who has the right stuff and who is headed for the surrender lots.
Just wondering: Other than as a consumer, do you have any connection to mining, logging or agriculture?
Lunch notes: “A high school counselor in Pend Oreille County, during the years when the budget didn’t allow hot lunch, forgot his lunch at home,” wrote Eva Gayle Six. “He called his wife on what was apparently a bad day for her and asked her to drive 12 miles to deliver it.”
She did. But she wasn’t happy about it.
When the man opened his lunch later, he found a note: “Here, you SOB.” (Only the key expression was actually spelled out.)
Somewhat scandalized, he phoned his wife. “What if somebody had found that lunch?” he asked.
She didn’t pause before answering, “Well, they’d sure know whose it was, wouldn’t they?”
The reason Karen Botker’s favorite sweatshirt enjoys that status: “My hubby thinks I look hot in it.”
Today’s Slice question: How many phone books get deposited on your porch in the course of a year?