Last night I got home from the airport and parked my car in the garage next door. Lately, it has been such a relief to park it off the street.
I went to the store for a few things and as I came back, about 7:45 p.m., I ran across our concierge, a very nice young Colombian woman with two children. She looked haggard and anxious. "What's wrong?" I said.
"I took Michel to the airport, and I've been looking for a parking place for two hours," she said. "I can't find anything nearby and legal. It's dinnertime now and I have to help Etienne with his homework. I just went to the police to ask them please not to tow my car-- it's parked in a towaway zone."
"I have the feeling it has become much harder to park in the past few months," I said.
"That's because the mayor has closed [several nearby streets] to parking," she said. "So all those people are looking here, too."
Merci, Monsieur Delanoë!
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