We have a pylon in our living room. Don’t ask. My roomate picked it up last winter, and it’s been residing on our tiki bar ever since. This comes in handy sometimes when the parking spot outside the building opens up, because we can “hold” the space with the pylon for a few minutes if someone has a car to be put in it. It hasn’t been as tough to park in Venice lately as it was all summer, but with two trendy bars almost across the street, it can still be difficult to find a spot near my apartment.
Tonight, there were two spots, almost twenty feet of glorious space, in front of our door. I took one for my car. Then I thought I’d try holding the other spot for the boyfriend, due in from his home in Pasadena in time for Jericho. So I put the pylon in the spot. I figured it was worth a shot, even if someone figured out that there was no good reason for a pylon to be there, and moved it out of the way for their vehicle.
But sure enough though, two hours later, when the boyfriend made it to Venice, the pylon was still there, in an empty parking spot. Perhaps it was a bit selfish, to hog a spot like that for a non-resident, but I had to try it, just to find out if a random pylon (specifically, a pylon with a flamboyant 20s mustache and bowtie drawn on it in Sharpie pen) could convince people not to park. Maybe it wouldn’t have worked in higher demand parking areas (there’s often one or two street parking spots on my block), but it did. Never underestimate the symbolism and authority of a pylon!