Once upon a time lived Mr Jenkins.
Mr Jenkins enjoyed walking his dog, fishing, and drinking a cool beverage while watching his favourite football team.
One could argue his was a contented life.
Until one day.
This day started like many others. Mr Jenkins rose early, put on his uniform and affixed his name badge. He then reported to the offices of Randwick City Council where he worked as a parking inspector.
Mr Jenkins found a rare satisfaction in his job. He appreciated the exercise his role demanded, and he savoured both the hustle and bustle of commercial centres and the tranquillity of the parks and beaches. Checking vehicles and parking meters also offered a certainty and regularity that appealed to his sensibilities.
Until this day.
“Jenkins, a word,” called his supervisor, Mr Simpkins.
Mr Jenkins hoped the interaction would be brief. He planned to mark the end of his shift by watching his favourite football team while enjoying the beverage he had placed in the fridge that morning.
Mr Simpkins closed his office door.
“Jenkins, it is no doubt apparent to you that the new Clovelly parking meters, which fall under your purview, were installed at great expense to the council, and thus the ratepayer.”
“Yes, Mr Simpkins.”
“And their installation, Jenkins, caused substantial inconvenience to said ratepayers, for what was a considerable duration.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Need I also remind you, Jenkins, of the robust accusations of visual pollution and loss of amenity levelled at the parking meters upon their approval, and indeed to this very day”
“No, Mr Simpkins”
“And an employee of your vast experience, Jenkins, would no doubt be conscient that it is incumbent upon these parking meters, and the system of which they are an integral component, to recuperate said cost and henceforth generate revenue for the council.”
“That’s correct, Mr Simpkins.”
“Then pray tell, Jenkins, why our esteemed accounts department informed me of the failure of these meters to generate any meaningful revenue since their installation.”
“Exemptions, sir”
“Please elaborate”
“Too many people have parking exemptions. Clovelly residents get exemptions. Baby Boomers always have exemptions, and young people can’t afford to live in Clovelly…”
“…Diligence and sacrifice, Jenkins, diligence and sacrifice…but I digress.”
“Yes sir. Tradies also somehow get exemptions and every second house is being renovated, and most renovations add off-street parking – so most residents give their parking permit to friends and relatives.”
“I see Jenkins.”
“And you don’t even have to pay at the beach, unless the clubbies rattle the tin.”
“So, why, Jenkins, were the meters ever installed?”
“Good question sir.”
Mr Jenkins went home, opened the fridge, and turned on the TV.
Image: Alexis Gethin
First published in The Beast magazine, February, 2026
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