Executive Center Parking

If I can save just one person in the world from suffering the parking structure hell that I experienced today, writing this post with a smashed left forefinger will have been worth it.

Today I had an 11:30 luncheon/seminar at Hukilau Restaurant, located in the Executive Center at 1088 Bishop Street.   Downtown is intimidating if you’re driving, & since I would be, I asked some downtown-familiar friends where the parking was.   “Drive down Bishop, look for the 7 Eleven on the right, & the parking ramp will be just after it,” I was told.   I actually never saw the 7 Eleven, but I did see a ramp on my right entitled Executive Center Parking, so I took it.

I was 15 minutes early.   Little did I know that 15 minutes was not enough to find parking in this structure.   In fact, 20 minutes was not enough.   In fact, there was NO FREAKING PARKING.   AT ALL.   NO TIME WAS ENOUGH.

Every single stall, for the first several floors, is marked “Reserved 24 Hours.”   Even the top floor was nothing but “Reserved 24 Hours” signs.   I went all the way back down, & called Hukilau.   I was informed by the girl who answered the phone that there were randomly placed non-reserved stalls, & that there was no method to the madness.   The only thing I could do was very slowly drive through the structure, looking for that odd stall that didn’t have the Reserved sign on it.

Although I did see stalls without the sign, they were all taken.   I got all the way to the top, then began making my way back down, slowly.   Looking for the nonexistent unreserved stall.

There were none.

The parking attendant took pity on me & let me park in a reserved stall near the exit.   I was able to make the luncheon, 25 minutes late.   I paid $6.28 for Hukilau’s Chocolate Brownie ala mode & gave it, along with my eternal gratitude & plans to never return to this godforsaken parking structure again, to the attendant on my way out.   With validation my parking cost $4.   It wasn’t the money spent that bothered me.   It was the 40 minutes of my life wasted in that stupid parking structure.   I should have just parked at my dad’s office & caught a damn cab.

In conclusion, I would just like everyone to know: FUCK EXECUTIVE CENTER PARKING.

So as not to leave anyone in suspense, I feel I should mention that I recently slammed my left forefinger in my closet sliding door.   It looks like I’m going to be able to keep the nail, but it hurts to type.   Ok then.

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