The car is still the lesser of two evils. But getting to a sporting event in a major arena by automobile has become a problem in logistics that makes the Lewis and Clark expedition seem like a trip to the corner drug store. However, just as slavery produced the Underground Railroad and Prohibition spawned the speakeasy, so the big city parking problem has developed a breed of minor but unique racketeers on the periphery of the sporting world.
A BOX AT THE CIRCUS
Several months ago my wife and I were offered, by a friend whose taste runs to events on which he can place bets, a box at Madison Square Garden for the circus. We declined with thanks. Our two small sons roared. Our friend stared at us as though we had suggested placing Mussolini's profile on the dollar bill.
"Don't you like the circus?" he asked.
"We like everything that happens in Madison Square Garden, even Liberace," my wife said. "It's just that we can't find a place to park."
Our friend's face cleared. He took a card from his pocket and handed it over.
"Try this place," he said.
I looked at the card. It advertised a parking lot in the 40s near the Garden.
"We've tried this place," I said. "It's always full up."
"I know," my friend said. "But just ask for LeRoy and tell him Dominick sent you."