Meter Maids and the Very, Very Special Spot They Hold in my Heart.

As much as it pains my always on the go, not a moment of down time to spare personality to admit, I was pretty much a waste of space on Saturday. Thanks to late Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights I slept far later than usual and no matter what I tried could not get motivated to do much of anything.

It’s not that a lazy day or a bit of winter hibernation here and there is such a bad thing, of course. If anything my sanity could probably do with more days focused solely on doing nothing. The problem is though, around 5 or 6 o’clock even on my laziest days, I start to stress. Without fail. Blame it on some Puritan ancestors I must have lurking in my family tree or that ol’ stoic hard working New England mind-set seeping into my brain, but I have a very hard time stomaching the idea of “not really accomplishing much of anything today.”

I’m not saying it’s a great thing, or the right way, I’m just saying it’s the truth.

True to form, as the sun began to set Saturday and I realized I hadn’t moved beyond a one block radius all day, the fear of wasting a whole day (!) set in. As the panic started to seep, I also realized I had a $25 coupon for the GAP, one that was set to expire at the end of the day. Seizing this as my motivating do something factor, I hopped into my car and drove the ten minutes down to the store. The nearest GAP isn’t located in the friendliest of parking areas in the city, but I was confident the parking Gods would be on my side. Sure enough, the minute I rounded the corner on one of my “secret” parking streets a car was pulling away from a meter and in I slid. When I got out of my car I thought about that parking meter and its constant grumbling for quarters. I looked up at the street sign reminding me that meters were shut off at 6pm; I glanced down at the time on my cell phone – 5:45pm. Out loud, in full-on talking to myself mode, I said “Screw it. I’m gonna risk it.”

(Bet you know where this is going now, don’t you?)

I have lived in this city far too long to think that meter maids aren’t hiding in the nearest bush or doorway even on one of the coldest nights of the year. I know better than to leave even 15 minutes to chance in this parking crazy town but still – rebel! – I did it. The trip to the Gap was successful, I found the pants I was looking for and the cashier immediately knocked off $25 from my bill. Lovely. I even felt like I’d accomplished a small something during the day.

Thanks to the frigid temps, I scurried back to my car and hopped in quickly. It actually wasn’t until I was sitting at a stop light that I looked down at my wipers and saw – oh joy! – a parking ticket delicately crammed ‘neath the wiper blades.

All because I said “screw the system.” And I wanted to save a quarter.

Can you guess how much the ticket cost?

$25.

Of course it did.