By Jim Hagarty
2013
I was a bit late and frazzled. I had a meeting downtown that I expected might last two or three hours so I needed a parking meter that allowed lots of time. Meter reading is done privately in our town now so the meter hawks are swarming everywhere, waiting to pounce on any prey, and I am determined to never again get another silly $15 ticket.
I drove around and there it was – a meter that allowed three hours and not far from my meeting spot. Perfect. Before I left the house, I reached into the change jar and filled one of my pockets with nickels, dimes and quarters. When I finished parking, I rejoiced when I saw 40 minutes left on my meter. Fantastic. So, I started stuffing in the coins and the time started adding up – one hour, two, then three. Yay.
One last check before I left revealed a problem, however. I had filled the wrong meter, for the car parked behind mine. Crap. I quickly searched my suddenly lighter pocket for my remaining coins and started dropping them in the right side of the stupid machine. Success. Three hours.
To the coin collectors: You’re welcome (you thieving bandits).
