I’m routinely accused of having the life of Reilly. Some days it is. Yesterday news opened with the prediction of another round of foul weather later in the day. Recall –foul weather– in the terms of commuters is pretty much anything other than sunny and 70. Although even that’s suspect as several accidents are attributed to sun glare during morning rush hours. With calls for chances of a bit of snow north and west and a scant amount of sleet/ice in the core and to the south I knew driving errands needed to be completed between a.m. and p.m. rush hours. Driver panic would settle in beginning later in the evening lasting through much of today. Many of my days plan themselves.
I pulled into the metered slot, slipped out of the car and took a peek into the stylists shop. It looked pretty much open so I rushed back to plug the meter and put the receipt in my window. Walking up to the storefront I noticed I was arriving before the posted open time–yet I could see a couple people inside. Sure enough the door was open and I asked the gal if I could get a cut. She smiled, indicated I could……but only after a color was done for the other lady ahead of me. I don’t wait for things such as haircuts–that’s why I intentionally go during off-hours. Groceries, oil-changes, recharging my Metro card, washing the dog, dry-cleaning, etc…. All done with minimal or no wait time given my flexibility.
She asked if I wanted to make an appointment–I deferred and said I’d come back, already grumbling as I realized I’d wasted my meter change. Just as I was putting the car into gear I saw a gentleman approach the meter. Swinging open the door I yelled to get his attention, running his way with my meter receipt and letting him know I had 30 minutes already paid. He smiled, said thanks and I was pretty happy with myself. Thinking about another close, decent hair place (clearly I’m not too fussy) I pulled into the grocery lot and walked over to option #2. They had just opened. I asked about walk-ins (this was a somewhat mid-upscale shop) and the receptionist smiled and said, ‘we sure do! Can I put you down for noon?’. ‘Noon’, I responded…’that’s not a walk-in, that’s an appointment’. I walked out and back to the car. I brought a couple grocery bags for some targeted heavy items–a routine when I know I’m driving even though the grocery is only a couple blocks away. Grabbed them and rushed into the store still thinking about a third nearby hair place. It’s been almost seven weeks–I could really use a cut.
A quick trip through and I was headed back across the still nearly empty lot. I saw the strip of paper on the windshield as soon as I opened the door. Fewer than 18 minutes earlier I had entered the store. Fewer than 30 minutes earlier I had felt good about giving up my unused, paid parking receipt to a complete stranger. Now another complete stranger had stuck a parking ticket on my windshield. First one since moving here. I’d forgotten to hit the ‘Free 60 Minutes’ button on the meter in front of my spot. Those meters are sprinkled among a few shopping plazas; never on the street but in a few flat lots. The stamped time on it indicted it’d been placed exactly half-way through my 17-18 minute trip through the store. That’s about my luck.
Cursing I drove to a final hair place—given the ticket price I figured I could make it up with a trip to a discount hair cutter. No luck–the line/wait was unacceptable. Driving home I continued the cursing. Taking a closer look at the ticket at a stoplight my spirits lifted on two counts. If I paid quickly it’d be knocked down to 5 bucks. Second count–nothing on the ticket about method of payment…..
Out for an evening walk through the park I realized how good we had it.
While chilly for an early February night the soccer field in the park was filled with multiple teams practicing—-a few players even in shorts. Cheerio…I’d better be shoveling off...
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