For the first time that I can recall I have paid for a Parking Surcharge for a rental car.
No, I did not park and then drive off without paying. I have been charged for the privilege of picking up a car from a rental car company’s official lot in downtown Toronto, and returning the same car to the same lot not more than twenty-four hours later.
I have been renting cars from companies in downtown Toronto for five years now, and from other companies across Toronto and North America for about twenty-five years.
I made six telephone calls over three days to try to get to the bottom of this.
Turns out it is not a “Parking Surcharge” after all. It is a “Location fee”. That is, I am not paying part of the company’s rent, but I am paying part of the company’s rent, get it?
If I was a tad steamed about having to pay some of their offices expenses, I was even more steamed about having to make six phone calls and to be told by three different clerks that “Our Computers shouldn’t be printing that”.
Anyway, I have served notice, or as we say in French “avis”, on myself not to use that company again.
Construction continues. My last direct sunlight is being blocked off as I type. I used to be able to see the building across the other side of Yonge Street. It disappeared this week as the second condominium tower rose floor by grey concrete floor.
However, I do get bright sunlight indirectly at short moments of the day.
Immediately to the north of me is a building on Wellesley Street whose face is aligned on a nominal forty-five degree angle to the street grid. In the early morning, the sun streams in from the east, hits the 45º face, and bounces South through my north-facing window. So far so good.
The sunlight travels past me as I sit on my couch facing north, minding my own business and reading the paper, and hits the four-foot square mirror I screwed across my kitchen-serving nook. The mirror, like me, faces North.
The sunlight now heads North again, and neatly illuminates my newspaper ...