His orders were to warn those who weren’t Fry’s customers to move and to call the tow truck if they refused. : Parking Feud Stirs a Lot of Acrimony on the L.A. Asphalt

The couple wanted nothing more than a noontime bite and a quick bit of shopping. But it wasn’t that easy.

The tree-shrouded El Torito restaurant in Woodland Hills and its new neighbor, a Gargantuan Fry’s Electronics store, seemed to Lillian and Bernard Novey the perfect one-stop destination: Eat some spicy food, buy some fancy gadgets, all on their lunch hour.

How were they to know this was another shopping center battleground in that bitter Los Angeles struggle, the Parking Space War?

The couple pulled into the Fry’s lot Wednesday afternoon, climbed out of their car and headed for El Torito. They were quickly halted by Walter, a mild-mannered Fry’s security guard.

Were they going to Fry’s? Walter asked.

Why, yes they were, the surprised couple replied, as soon as they fortified themselves with a little Mexican food.

Sorry, Walter told them, but if they weren’t going into Fry’s--right now--they would have to move their car. Or be towed. They could, Walter said, go into Fry’s first and then El Torito; that would be fine.

Lillian worried as Bernard turned back toward the car. “He’s gonna blow his top,” she said.

The massive lot in front of the new Fry’s is not the only place where this war is fought, as business tenants of strip malls and shopping plazas scrabble bitterly to preserve parking space for their customers.

It’s just the latest.

For years what is now the Fry’s lot and an adjacent parking area have been shared peacefully by customers and employees of the nearby restaurant, plus patrons of a United Artists movie theater and a State Farm Insurance service center, according to employees of businesses on the lots.

It was share and share alike, until last week, they said.

Intelligence in any well-managed battle is kept close to the chest, of course. Fry’s management declined to comment. Officials of the Voit Cos., which manages the adjacent parking area, did not return phone calls seeking comment.

The word on the street--er, lot--however, is that the Voit folks claim a right to a certain percentage of the parking spaces on the Fry’s lot under a contract with previous owners, while the Fry’s people insist that the lot, which they repaved and lighted, is all theirs.

The night before Fry’s grand opening eight days ago, crews swept into the Fry’s lot in the darkness and painted “FRY’S ONLY” in every single parking space, said employees of neighboring businesses, who did not want to be identified.

They also posted ominous warning signs.

Then, according to both sides, the Fry’s folks started towing.

So, up went the signs on the Voit property: “NO FRY’S PARKING.”

And the battle was on.

*

A car screeched to a halt in front of the Voit property security guards, and the fury on the woman’s face was clear before she rolled down the window.

“Where the hell do I park for the theater?” she shouted.

“Around back there,” one of the guards replied with a helpful tone.

“This is really . . . me off,” the woman said before speeding away.

The driver of a car right behind her, losing all patience, sped out of the lot in a fit of burning rubber.

“I’ve seen about 10 cars towed myself,” said a security guard patrolling the Voit lot.

Said his partner: “Now we’re going to play hardball.”

Fry’s security guard Walter--whom Lillian Novey called a darn nice young man with a mighty unpopular job--said his orders were to warn those who weren’t Fry’s customers that they should move, and call the tow truck if they refused.

“I’ve been averaging one [tow] a day,” Walter said, adding that most people were understanding and moved their cars with little protest, although one driver responded with an offensive hand gesture.

Elvira Manzano and Joni Young, who work nearby and said they eat at El Torito several times a week, were befuddled when told they would have to move.

“They have a hundred spaces left and they’re towing people!” Young exclaimed.

None of the merchants involved would get their business, Manzano said, echoing the sentiment of many customers.

“We’re going somewhere else,” she said.

As is often the case in war, however, the arms merchants prosper on both sides of the trenches.

A worker at Howard Sommers Towing in Canoga Park confirmed that, yes, her drivers are towing cars from both lots.