“I think God owes me a parking spot this morning,” I thought out loud as I turned onto the street where I work. (No, no, not like that…the street where the building in which I work is located. But see how that’s just too unwieldy?)
As I pulled up next to the building, I saw a particularly prime parking spot on the street right across from the front entrance. Empty. No way.
The last time that spot stood empty, I was stuck at the red light across from it…waiting. And while I waited ever so patiently, it happened. Some guy pulled up, hit his blinker, and parallel parked in five seconds flat.
“NOOOOOOOO!!! That was my parking spot! You [email protected]#%@$#!”
And so I had to proceed to the parking lot…two blocks down the hill. This meant, of course, that after parking my car in said lot, I would then have to haul my tuchus up the
hill. It is a very steep hill. And it was about fifteen degrees outside that morning. I had no clue what happened – I mean, I prayed the Mother Cabrini park my machinery prayer and everything. And now I’m parked at the bottom of the hill, forced to walk in freezing temperatures? Somebody Up There owed me a parking space.
This particular morning, however, that spot was mine. As I pulled up victoriously next to the empty space, I wondered for a split second if it was actually big enough for my car. Who cares? It’s awesome and it’s empty and I’m taking this spot even if I have to put the back wheels up on the excessively large corner piece of sidewalk that nobody understands. And with that, I executed a perfect parallel park. In four seconds, thank you very much. Take that, Jerk-Who-Stole-My-Spot. Done.
In the afternoon I headed for my car, skipping just a little bit and joyful in the knowledge that I did not have to make the trek to the parking lot in the snow that was beginning to make the sidewalks slick.
That’s when I saw it.
“You have GOT to be kidding me!” I said to no one in particular.
Why did I get a parking ticket? I was in a perfectly legit spot. I checked the color of the curb. Regular you-can-park-here curb color. I checked the back wheels. Not up on the sidewalk, despite my earlier threats. Was it a street cleaning day? Nope, tomorrow. Inspection, registration, and emissions stickers? Everything in complete compliance.
But as I started the engine, I saw for the first time the reason for my violation.
Apparently, when you ask Saints to park your car for you, it is important to make sure they know how to do it legally.
Previously published on Themeaningofme.com.
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