Dear Multi-Story Car Park,

I get it.

No, I really do.

Others, like me, have not been there for you as much as we would have liked. Our social lives, jobs, and the inability to travel by car in London at a speed faster than a sleeping Rick Ross, have meant that your services have not been required as often as they could.

I get it.

You feel underused, and undervalued; like a VCR player, Channel 5, a New Year gym membership and the Metropolitan line. You probably think that your best days are behind you. Your friends don’t come and visit anymore, and your birthday is less a celebration, more a milestone predicting your eventual permanent demise. There were also those horrible rumours about drug-related activities on your second floor.

I get it.

It worked for Peckham. You probably sat next to your cousin from Peckham at the last car park reunion and she was telling you how amazing those sunny days and summer nights are now she is no longer a mere recipient of cars. She would have told you about the queues around the block, the endless string of couples exploring the magic that is young love. The first time people stopped to appreciate her views. Her first hashtag. The temptation must be overwhelming.

I get it.

I do. But please, please, don’t turn into another rooftop bar. I know this past summer you had a pop-up residency for six weeks. I’m not angry. Believe me, I’m not. We can forget the whole thing. But us residents, we need you to be a car park. I know how this works; soon they will upgrade you ever so slightly to a rooftop cinema, and the moment words gets round that we have a rooftop cinema in our area, well then we will certainly end up with a Foxtons. And none of us want that, do we?

I know you want to make the most of your views of the Shard, but it’s the Shard, it’s huge, you can see it from everywhere. Those developers will make you feel special, shower you with compliments. Eventually, another former storage unit will be turned into a far trendier rooftop bar just down the road. Who will be left to wipe away your tears, and pick up the pieces of stale popcorn that represent your former hopes and ambitions?

That’s right, we will.

Please reconsider.


Local residents