The car, 22 years old, may have air conditioning. But my efforts to locate an owner’s manual (the car did not have one when I bought it) have been futile, and the controls are not that well marked. (It’s a 1994 Mercedes Benz C-280.)
I had decided against driving to downtown Los Angeles years ago, long before I developed trouble with the veins in my legs qualifying me for the placard. Still, if the spaces don’t exist the rates don’t matter.
My status is quite casual–I might go for weeks without contact from the lawyer. In fact when I started I might come into his office from one of my yards (I did yard work until I got too old and heavy for it), barely presentable.