Sartre's Famous Deli

I could not get out of the mall. No, really, I couldn’t get out of the parking structure. No, really, I couldn’t physically exit the mall.

I took a ticket upon entering this time, remembering how the last time when I didn’t take a ticket I had a very difficult time trying to wiggle myself and the scooter around the end of the barrier.

I shopped. I got excellent customer service at Sephora (A woman named Flower is a color expert and I recommend you seek her out next time you shop for concealer). (And don't you love the samples??) Then I took to depart.

In the approach to the exit gates I noticed they had changed the older ticket readers for smaller machines, and there were no attendants anymore. I inserted my ticket in the prescribed manner, magnetic stripe down and to the right, just like in the picture. The machine, in its machine-like obstinacy, refused to consume it. I insisted. Again it refused. The machine must be defective, I thought, and backed up to try the other ticket-taking barrier-raising machine. Like its imperturbable twin, I was denied.

A blue help button hailed a sarcastic male voice remotely instructing me to put the ticket in again. As I expected, it wouldn’t go in. He had to send someone. I waited on my idling bike and tried to keep people from lining up behind me by waving them to the other machine. I eyed the barrier again to see if I couldn’t possibly squeeze around or under it. Back in the day before they began renovating, I could go around the bar, but now, they made it lower and lengthened it so it extended past the curb. I was trapped.

Finally a parking attendant showed up. He asked me if I had told the guy on the call box if I had told him I was on a scooter. I said no, he didn’t ask me. Then he pointed out the sensor lines in the asphalt. My bike didn’t trigger the sensor – the sensor which makes the machine accept the tickets. (Why don’t they just make the machine taste the ticket like others of its kind? Why a pavement sensor for this?) Then he told me that they didn’t allow motorcycle parking there anyway.

I asked him for the name of someone to speak to about this. He couldn’t remember the guy’s phone number. He told me his name but I all retained was some Griswold or something. Finally back at my desk, late and inconvenienced, I tried tracking someone down in the mall management office. Why would they purposely exclude an entire class of shoppers from shopping at their mall?? There is no place to park in the area, other than their structure if you want to shop there. After a little web search, I told my tale to Vivian in their management office. She would research the issue and call me back on Monday. I'm interested in hearing their reasoning. If I don’t like the answer I get, be assured I’ll be sending a letter to the U.S. corporate offices, conveniently located in L.A.