Parking

This is a local rant, but I’m pretty certain that it is a “the left hand doesn’t know that there’s a right hand working against him and so the feet get screwed” case in it’s simplest form. Well, that might over simplify it, but it’s still pretty close to the situation here.

Parking. Today’s rant is about parking. I park every morning in a commuter train lot… no, I’m not a tree hugging hippie type – in fact I’m the first person to cheer when I see a field plowed over for something useful – but I live in the wilderness of Connecticut and there’s no easier way to get around. Traffic can be it’s own Rant at a later date, but I digress here. So I take the train to work everyday and I park in a commuter lot. One day, in the not too distant past, the local town opted to perform some construction on said lot, but never bothered to either tell us parking people nor cut back on the amount of permits. Every try to fit five pounds of a crap into a one pound bag? That’s parking in this lot now. If you call the local DOT, they tell you to park anywhere; so I did, and quite creatively at that. My reward was a ticket from the local police dept. Now I understand that it’s not quite in good humor to attack any PD given the recent events in the US, so I politely contested the ticket. Shoulda saved time and paid it in person and beat the cost of a stamp.

The moral of story? Just because one dept. tells you something, don’t let your common scene be over written – no one will take that as a valid excuse when you do something stupid, even when you have permission.


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