I have a confession to make: I’ve fallen in love.
It’s not your typical romance, and some people might even regard it as unnatural or perverse. But, as they say, the heart knows what it wants, so I beg your forgiveness if you find my desire offensive.
I have fallen for Harrisburg’s new parking system.
It’s a flawed love, as all love is, and it comes at a cost. But, as many guys know, beauty often extracts a high price.
In the Beginning
Where do I start about my love? Well, as with all love stories, it’s best to start at the beginning.
When I moved to Harrisburg, I was surprised by the ugly, obsolete parking regimen. Squat gray meters stood like elderly soldiers in rows along downtown streets, accepting not credit cards, not even paper money, but only change. Sure, the cost was reasonable—$1.50 an hour—but who carried around buckets of quarters to feed the old guys?
As I’d soon learn, my reaction was so, so naive. Only chumps actually put money into the things, I was told. Enforcement was so lax that people never bothered paying at all. On the rare occasion you’d get a ticket, it was 14 bucks if you paid it within three days, an acceptable cost of doing business.
That is, if you could find parking at all.
The old system created a perverse incentive for long-term parkers to hog spots on the street. Heck, the day rate for downtown garage parking was more expensive than paying the ticket. So, by 8 a.m., early-rising state employees, construction guys and restaurant workers already had sidled into the limited street parking, where they stayed until their days were done.
Looking to bolt downtown for a quick lunch or to grab a coffee? Good luck finding a place to put your car.
Falling
In March, this all began to change as the new operator, SP+, took over from the city authority and ripped out the mechanical coin-ops, replacing them with a digital, multi-space system. The rates also doubled, to a hefty $3 an hour, and tickets skyrocketed to $30 per violation—$50 after four days.
It was part of the deal to relieve Harrisburg of hundreds of millions of dollars of debt, while providing it with about $5 million of new revenue a year.
At the time, I was as skeptical as anyone and avoided downtown for a week or so. I had heard the first reports—people didn’t understand the system, had been dinged with big fines, couldn’t find the new parking office to pay the tickets they got—and they weren’t good.
But, one day, I couldn’t avoid it anymore. I had errands to run and a growing McGrath’s craving to sate, so I took off down Front Street from our Uptown office.
Turning onto Locust Street, I knew something was different. There was parking, plenty of it. So, I did something impossible before—pulled into a spot directly in front of the restaurant. I walked a few feet to the new meter and immediately bumped into a parking attendant, who guided me through the process.
It was simple. I put in my license plate number, the amount of time I wanted and my credit card. It was the first time I didn’t have to dig for quarters, regret I had none and scurry to the nearest bank to get a roll (yes, I had remained a law-abiding, quarter-toting chump).
There was even a field to key in my cell number so, when the meter was low, the system could send me an alert, allowing me to top off remotely. Running late, I did just that, and—oh my Lord—it actually worked. Also, I learned that, when you buy time, you’re not renting a designated space. You can move your vehicle anywhere within the on-street system as long as you have money in the system.
To me, this was a thing of beauty, a virtual parking supermodel.
So, now, for a few extra bucks, I get to park where I want, when I want. I can use a credit card. I can add time through my cell phone. I’m no longer so weighed down with quarters that I look like a home plate umpire who’s just stocked up on baseballs.
Pull In
I know that not everyone shares my affection.
Some people preferred the old way. They liked cheap, even though the broken-down, inconvenient system was run incompetently and ate your quarters almost as often as it tallied them. It offered nothing to the city and little to its customers—not even the parking that was its only product.
Yes, I realize that restaurant and shop employees have suffered under the added expense. However, the parking operator and some business owners are making accommodations for lower-wage workers. There are even discounted garage rates for downtown residents who only need to park at night and weekends.
Indeed, there are always bumps in a new relationship. You find out that your beloved chews like a cow or snores loudly or charges on Saturdays. But you make adjustments because the thought of not being with him or her or not eating Suba’s fish tacos is just too horrible to bear.
So, now I’m going to say something weird(er): Give my love a try. Several restaurant owners have complained that their happy hour business is down because customers are waiting until 7 p.m. to go out so they won’t have to pay for parking.
That’s so silly! Please, go at 6, park wherever you want, put $3 on your card, and get some great happy hour deals.
I think you’ll find that my beloved has these great, big open spaces and friendly, accepting payment methods. She’s eager to please. So, just pull in and give her a go.
