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Handicapped Parking Hassles

I’m sure most people envy me my handicapped parking sticker, especially during the holiday shopping madness when parking is a free-for-all.  Most days I’m very grateful that I don’t have to hobble further than a handicapped space with my bionic parts.  

It was Tuesday that I noticed a piece of paper jammed into the wiper well at the front of my car. I’m not the tallest person, and with bionic parts my clambering to get this bit of paper was probably a show worth a chuckle for any bystanders.  When I finally fished it out, it was a parking ticket. In fact, it was a parking ticket for the Friday before, and the ticket was for parking in a handicapped spot.  After I blinked at it a few times, I turned my head just enough to check that yes, my handicapped sticker was clearly displayed on the front dash, right above the spot the ticket had been jammed under the wipers.  Okay, that was confusing.  It was also pretty freaky as the ticket amount was $450.  Ack!

Perhaps there was snow or something, obstructing the view of the sticker.  Okay, I needed to deal with this, so I started by taking a few pictures to show that the sticker was clearly displayed.  After a few phone calls, I determined that I had to go into an office at city hall to get the parking ticket straightened out. Fortunately, the building has handicapped parking close to the door. Unfortunately, I had to take the sticker inside with me so I couldn’t park there.

When I got to the right office, the lady at the desk smiled and said she liked the funky blue in my hair. We were off to a good start, smiling together as I related my ticket issue. She explained that ticketers are required to take a photo of the car, so it would be easy to resolve. She pulled up the file and opened the picture, and then suddenly she was snorting and buckled over. For a moment I thought she was distressed, then I realized she was laughing - a lot.  Still gasping, she pivoted the screen so I could see a clear image of the back of my car. I blinked a few times and asked her if I was being punked.

I glanced down at my prepared pics of the front of my car where the sticker is displayed. I looked back at the screen, showing the back of my car. There didn’t seem to be any cameras in the room, though she was too busy laughing to answer me. The guy had to go to the front of the car to bury the ticket in the wiper well, so why did he take the picture at the back?

What do you even say to that?  The lovely, helpful lady settled for laughing.  She also fixed the ticket, giving me a lovely gratitude moment for her help and her good humor.  

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