Singular. Meter. There are no parking meters. Well, technically, that probably isn't true. There may well be meters. Plural. We have only encountered one. A single meter that you go to and get a ticket and then you place the ticket in your car on the dashboard so that the meter reader can see it through the windshield. Yeah. Good luck with that. Let us know how it works out.
Twice we have tried to use the machine. Both times it has been out of order. The poor meter reader has been standing at the machine, manning it, either taking money from men who want to park and jotting down on a slip of paper what vehicle he has taken money from - or - when he finds out you just want to run into one store, he asks which vehicle is yours and motions you to go on about your business without taking money. It will be interesting to see how this paid parking downtown is going to work.
Oh, and what about all the vehicles that don't bother to park in actual parking places? What is going to be done about them? Havoc. You start towing those cars and there is going to be chaos [like there isn't already!].
I'm going downtown later this week. I'll get a picture of the lonely meter. And of the lonely meter man. And of the line of men who are trying to pay for parking but can't. Oh, and of the cars that aren't parked in parking places - but instead - randomly parked on the street.
Just too funny. Of course it is nothing new. It was implemented almost a year ago. Thing is... The meter was never installed until just recently.
Other smart news, here. A woman's fitness center has been closed. Man oh man oh man. Sometimes blogging is work. [I've got to search posts that have pictures of cars parked in the middle of the streets for the parking meter paragraphs, above, and now,I have to search for the post I did on why women are not allowed to go to the gym, here. Same reason they aren't allowed to use toilet paper...] Think about this. Women, outside of the confines of their own homes, with the exception of some ex-pats, must be fully covered from head-to-toe at all times. In black. Usually polyester. The average temperature for six months of the years is 120°. [But it's a dry heat...] How many women, in those conditions, do you think are going to be exercising outside? Very, very, very few. So, where are they going to go? The gym. Nope. Not here. Women's fitness centers are not allowed. "Anyone who violates regulations governing the running of health facilities" is going to "be punished severely because this involves people's health." Of course, this is one of the reasons that young women are forced to go to clinics in the U.K. and Canada. Yeah. Okay. Sure. "Health" reasons [wink wink].
How many of these women have visited the U.K. or Canada, I wonder? The man is getting what he deserves! Thankfully the prosecution prevailed in its appeal. Ten years in jail and 1,000 lashes is hardly just punishment for raping over 100 women. He has been sentenced to death. On the bright side, as I have said often on this blog, Saudi Arabia doesn't screw around when it comes to meting out punishments. None of the namby pamby stuff that takes place in the States with defendants lingering [at significant taxpayer expense] in jails. Ut-uh. Here? It is swift. And to the point [pun intended]. Like this. The defendant is not identified anywhere in the article. Nor is his nationality. Anyone care to venture a guess? By all means, do click and read the ten short paragraphs. The guy had quite the racket going and somehow, with the blackmailing, ended up with almost a million dollars in his bank account. You did this in the wrong country, dumbass. Anywhere else and you probably could have been a reality television p0rnstar.
Little blue pi!!s for when you're eighty and have a young wife or for when you're thirty and have four wives. It has to be tough trying to keep up. [Umm hmm. Another pun intended.] Of course they're illegal and you probably do not want to be caught smuggling them into the country.