July 1, 2007

All Taso PaPagiriou wants are a few parking spaces and 15 minutes.

Ever since La Fogata, a high-end world cuisine restaurant, opened three months ago next door to his business, TLC Food Mart, the spots in front of his Gulfport, Fla., storefront have been filled for hours at a time. On Friday and Saturday nights especially, it makes his convenience store a little less convenient, he says, and endangers his livelihood.

“I’m losing thousands of dollars every week,” PaPagiriou says. “They’re putting me out of business.”

To fight back, PaPagiriou is circulating a petition he hopes will persuade City Council members to reserve three parking spaces in front of his store on Beach Boulevard South, each with a 15-minute limit. So far, he has more than 400 signatures. He says it’s the only way to preserve business on a street with no meters or parking lots.

Other business owners disagree.

“We’ve got this good problem of having no parking,” says Mike McKee, who manages several properties along the strip, including the Art Village Courtyard and Reef Dog Gifts and Grooming. A scarcity of parking is a sign that customers are visiting downtown and spending money. “Why is that a bad thing?”

The conflict is an example of the tension building among business owners as Gulfport transforms from an insular art community into a tourist destination. As the downtown area works through growing pains, some business owners are elated while others are pondering how their businesses will survive.

Residents are also caught in the debate. More business means more shopping and recreational opportunities close to home. But as outsiders come to Gulfport to dine or shop, the locals find themselves maneuvering a crowded commercial strip, and sometimes must compete for parking on the side streets.

PaPagiriou had taken his petition to the city manager and plans to present it to the City Council. But it carries no legal weight, and city officials don’t think parking is a pressing issue in Gulfport.
 
“PaPagiriou bought a business on a street with no on-site parking,” City Manager Thomas Brobeil says. “I don’t know what he expects.”

Businesses that open or move into Gulfport usually are required to provide adequate off-street parking for their customers. But Gulfport waives parking regulations for businesses on Beach Boulevard, says City Council member Michelle King, because there is no room to build parking lots in the area. All the businesses on the strip vie for the same 237 public spaces that line the boulevard.

“We gave up on parking because we wanted the business,” King says.

When plans for La Fogata were submitted, the city allowed the business to forgo the 63 spaces needed for a restaurant of its size. The same waiver is extended to every business on the street, including TLC Food Mart.

But as cars from the strip spill over to residential streets, the policy is beginning to nip at the city’s heels. The meterless charm of Gulfport’s downtown could soon be a thing of the past as new business, and new customers, are attracted to the sleepy beach town.

“Some people are saying it can’t stay that way forever,” says city planner Angela Hurley. “The character of the place is changing.”

McKee welcomes that change. On weekends the Art Village Courtyard host live bands and, during the week, an open-air market. If La Fogata is attracting people to the area, he says, it only means more business for him.

The formula doesn’t necessarily hold true for PaPagiriou, whose biggest sellers are cigarettes, beer and wine. In front of his store is a selection of dusty VHS movies. On one Saturday a man came in three times to buy scratch-off lottery tickets until he won $25. A woman cashed her Social Security check.

Part of his issue with La Fogata is that it markets to people who are not part of the local community.

“All my customers are 100 percent Gulfport,” PaPagiriou says.

But some fellow business owners say that TLC Food Mart doesn’t fit the new, tourist-friendly character of downtown. While many of the restaurants and shops in downtown sport bright colors and designs, TLC has a neon “We ID” sign and a whitewashed brick facade.

That’s how a convenience store looks, PaPagiriou defends: “What do they want me to do, open a museum?”

The contrast between neighbors TLC and La Fogata is stark. The restaurant is housed in a 1920s building that long ago held the downtown pharmacy. The refurbished building has long tinted windows and a pagoda-style roof. With a capacity of 185, it serves between 120 and 150 on a weekend night.

“With the size of our restaurant, we’re not basing our business off Gulfport,” says restaurant manager Evan Howard. “We’re competitive with all of Tampa Bay. We try to be the business that gets people to Gulfport.”

Brobeil, the city manager, says new business is good for the community. There are no parking problems on weekday nights, he says, and the free trolley system and outlying parking lots are more than enough to meet the weekend demand.

To accommodate the additional traffic, Howard tells his valets to park cars on 29th Avenue, a side street of Beach Boulevard – something that eases the strain on the boulevard but carries the debate into the residential neighborhoods.

Stephanie Rhoton, 22, lives in an apartment on Beach Boulevard. She watches every weekend as the street floods with cars, and as the free valet service provided by La Fogata fills up side streets.

“I’ve come home and can’t find a spot in front of my house,” she says. “It’s absurd to have a valet. Gulfport is the size of your pinky.”

She considers the valet an affectation that gives La Fogata patrons that special rich-guy feeling when they hand off their keys.

“It tells you a little bit about their clientele,” she says.

Even down 29th Avenue, more than a block away from Beach Boulevard, residents have been affected.

“One night a young man asked if he could park his car in front of our house. I said sure,” Kathleen Buchman says. “Then he came back and parked another one. I realized he was a valet when he started running back up the block.”
 
On a recent Friday evening, cars start lining up on her street as early as 7 p.m.  The Buchmans don’t know recognize any of them.
 
“None of the people on our street eat at La Fogata,” says Gary Buchman. “It’s too rich for anyone here.”

The restaurant charges a flat fee for each customer.

“$25 per a person,” Gary says. “No one can afford that.”

It actually starts at $35.

Support high-integrity, independent journalism that serves democracy. Make a gift to Poynter today. The Poynter Institute is a nonpartisan, nonprofit organization, and your gift helps us make good journalism better.
Donate

More News

Back to News