We circled the block twice with no luck. "Where can I park around here?" I asked a guard. He pointed to a lot behind the bank.
The sign by the curb was half faded. "Am I allowed to park here on weekends?" I asked. She said yes, after six on Saturdays.
An attendant waved me down as I pulled in. "Sorry, you can't park in this row," he said. I backed out and found another spot.
I came back to a slip tucked under the wiper. "Great, I got a parking ticket," I groaned. She reminded me to read signs next time.
Every space we passed was already full. "There's no parking left anywhere," I sighed. We gave up and took the train instead.