This morning two co-workers and I made the 2+ hour drive from Salisbury back to the office in Chinatown. I had planned to drive to the closest DC metro stop, drop them off, then drive to my apartment in Arlington, park, and metro to Chinatown as usual. As silly as this sounds, those were the lengths I was willing to go to avoid the inevitable nightmares, both mental and monetary, that ensue anytime I try to park in DC.
Then I realized that we were taking back the ginormous video camera and if I didn’t bring it to the office then, it could quite possibly remain in my trunk until the end of time. My first instinct was still to drive to the office, drop them and the camera off, drive to Arlington and then metro back in, but I decided I was being ridiculous. Since the credit card machine was broken (per the norm), I paid by phone for street parking until 4:45. This was at 12:45. When I got into my car at 4:43, I didn’t even see this:
Only after I was driving for a while and noticed it flapping in the wind did I realize I had gotten a ticket. Still, I was not concerned. I had paid for parking. I had a receipt. Surely this was just a simple error that could be rectified. I even took a little pleasure from the thought that the parking people had made a mistake.
Then right before I pulled into my apartment complex I realized: starting at 4 p.m. you are no longer allowed to park on the street where I had because it’s rush hour. Even though I had paid for parking until 4:45, I probably will still have to pay for this ticket.
I still wasn’t completely flipping out because after all, I have a job. I can afford to pay a $25 parking ticket now and again. Then I flipped it over and saw the amount I owe. I’m going to spell it out for you in words so you can get an idea of how I heard it in my head: ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!?! Without even meaning to I compiled a rather lengthy mental list of all the amazing ways I could have spent that $100. My London trip in August coming in at #1.
Usually I enjoy telling stories about the unlucky things that happen to me because I can see the humor. The Jamaican resort staff mistaking my Dad for my husband? Disturbing, but hilarious. The Cardinals losing every time I go to a game? Worth a chuckle. Random fainting spells at the office? That’s just funny. This material is basically what keeps my blog going.
Unfortunately I’ve written this whole post and still haven’t found the funny. Okay, it’s not the end of the world. I am a blessed person. But, seriously, ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS?!?