When you’re going to a concert or a sporting event, you’re worried about one thing: Will the stadium have an endless parking lot packed with thousands and thousands of cars, making entry and exit a living nightmare?
Rest assured, when the city gave us the green light to build a new stadium, we remembered to include the most important part of any modern arena: a gigantic asphalt hellscape stretching as far as the eye can see.
We know it’s not fun to trudge across a parking lot, but we’re confident that our new stadium will make up for it with its fantastic acoustics. You’ll need an incredible soundscape when you’re missing Lady Gaga’s entire set, trying to parkour your way through twelve acres of haphazardly parked sedans and abruptly abandoned tailgates. Don’t fret about missing the whole show; you’ll have hours to listen to her songs on the radio, sitting in standstill exit traffic, begging God to deliver you from this misery.
You’ll make memories in this state-sponsored La Brea Tar Pit long after the event is over. Your family will never forget Mom and Dad’s whisper-screaming match about where they parked the minivan (hint: They’re both wrong).
We wanted our gargantuan parking lot to be unique, so we said goodbye to boring numbered lot sections. You don’t want to park in Lot A, Section 2. You want the excitement of remembering whether you left the car in the Verizon Lot or the GrubHub: Powered by Seamless—A DoorDash Experience Lot. Here’s a hint: You parked in the Dippin’ Dots Overflow Lot and your car was towed.
Our parking lot lets you drive right up to the action, as long as the action you came for is a swearing match between two panicking dads whose next decade will be defined by their failure to get their daughters to see Sabrina Carpenter.
Our parking lot benefits everyone. This sprawling wasteland will create thousands of jobs, exclusively for the six attendants who sit in tiny booths and never have change for a fifty.
This city’s old arena was so lacking, tucked away in a central business district, easily accessible by a dozen public transit options, and surrounded by regional-appropriate flora and fauna. Now, you can take out a second mortgage to afford the gas, tolls, and overnight emergency equipment you’ll need for the hellish pilgrimage to our paved inferno forty-five minutes outside city limits.
It will easily connect commuters directly to our downtown (via three highways, two freeways, and one space-time wormhole) so businesses can take advantage of their favorite customers: enraged drivers recklessly speeding home after a ruined evening.
Our endless parking lot will earn outside revenue from many sources. We can rent it to postapocalyptic television shows as an easy visual for the destroyed, soulless husk of society, and that’s about it. Fingers crossed for Mad Max: Rochester, New York.
We’re looking toward the future. Specifically, a burning-hot apocalyptic future where harried groups trek across inhospitable landscapes in search of nineteen-dollar bottles of water.
Plus, once you’re through with the Herculean task of navigating our parking lot, you can enjoy our second most popular amenity: a confounding M. C. Escher–inspired series of stairs and escalators that will destroy any hope you had in the cosmic order of the universe.