I was having a good day, yesterday. I really was. Got up early, worked out. Watched some TV, read the paper, had breakfast. Worked on some Finders Keepers materials. Then I took a trip to the mall, bought a DVD player for the bedroom and picked up some super sale DVDs. And all by 1 pm.
It was windy as all get-out–reports said more than 40 mph–but it didn’t bother me, as I was just having a good little day indeed.
Then I parked along Queens Blvd., which requires a muni-meter ticket, sI was having a good day, yesterday. I really was. Got up early, worked out. Watched some TV, read the paper, had breakfast. Worked on some Finders Keepers materials. Then I took a trip to the mall, bought a DVD player for the bedroom and picked up some super sale DVDs. And all by 1 pm.
It was windy as all get-out–reports said more than 40 mph–but it didn’t bother me, as I was just having a good little day indeed.
Then I parked along Queens Blvd., which requires a muni-meter ticket, so I bought one and put it up on the dashboard. I then walked over to a nearby cleaners, dropped off a bunch of clothes, and then came back … only to find a meter maid writing me up a ticket!
So I ask what she’s doing, and she says I’m getting a ticket for not paying for the parking. I protest, and say of course there’s a ticket on the dash. Except there wasn’t. Naturally, I was a bit perplexed. I opened up the car door, and found that the ticket must have blown from the dash as I closed the door earlier, because I found it on the floor. Great. Turns out that 40 mph wind found a way to nail me after all.
When I produced the ticket, the meter maid was less than impressed, giving me such a bored look of annoyance I thought she might start bashing her head into the nearest sign post, praying for death. I imagine her job isn’t the exciting. And in all fairness, she really couldn’t have known the ticket was there. But still, I really did pay my parking meter fee–50 cents for 40 minutes–and I was still getting a $35 ticket.
And the more I protested, the less she cared. Much, much less. So much so that I was sort of thinking that he bashing her own head in was seeming like a decent option. So now I’m going to have to send in my ticket–with my muni-parking stub demonstrating that I indeed paid during the time I got the ticket–and hope that I get the ticket dismissed (yeah, right), or reduced.
Guess I learned my lesson. Buying a parking stub isn’t enough. From now on I’m glueing that sucker to the dashboard! We might not survive a hurricaine, but that ticket stub will!
