Own a Parking Permit? USE IT!
*Sigh*
It’s official! I’m Super-Annoyed. I only thought I was annoyed before, now I know I am.
Okay, I know I’ve alluded to the Parking Issues at WKU. I don’t know of any other topic on campus that everyone has a strong opinion on as much as parking. If a professor is tired of their students sitting there in silence, all they need to do is mention parking and the students begin to buzz like an angry swarm of bees. There is the cost of parking permits ($75), the lack of parking spaces, the injustice of taking a commuter parking lot and making it half faculty parking, the injustice of being shut out (or run out) of parking structures prior to games, etc., etc.
Last Thursday evening, I took my car to the repair shop after hours and left it there, hoping that they would have an opportunity fix it the next day. I had forgotten to call earlier in the day to make sure they could get to it but decided to take my chances since I had an opportunity to use Jolene’s car on Friday. Though Jolene had a parking permit, I took my permit from the car, just in case they couldn’t get to it and I’d have to leave it until Monday. If that happened, I’d have to borrow Mom’s van and would need the permit.
My car was, indeed, repaired, and I was able to pick it up on Friday evening after work. I transferred all of my stuff from Jolene’s car to mine but failed to pull the parking permit out of my basket of stuff and hang it up. On Saturday, as Kris and I were headed to Bowling Green, she mentioned my parking permit, but it was in the back seat where I couldn’t reach it at the time. I told her that she must NOT let me forget to put it back up before Monday morning. (I think we can all see where this is heading. In hindsight, I should have screeched to a halt in the middle of the road and marched around to the back seat and dug the permit back out.)
Fast forward to Monday morning: I had attended my classes and left my Meteorology class in a very good mood, having just received my first test back with a nice perfect score. I made my way to the car, dodging around the cars cruising the parking lot like vultures. As I reached my car, someone spotted me. They pulled up to wait on me to back out so they could claim my spot. I got into the car and backed out of my spot, keeping an eye on the car waiting. It was inching closer to make sure no one else came out of the blue and took it out from under their very nose.
As I put my car in gear and looked out the windshield, I saw the Offending Paper. My heart plummeted to the very tip of my second toe on my left foot. I knew, without looking, that I had indeed forgotten to hang my parking permit back up. I put my car in park, got out, and snatched the Awful Paper from under my windshield wiper. I glanced at The Citation, expecting to see $35.00 on it—just like the other tickets I’d seen on commuter vehicles parked in faculty parking. My eyes bugged out as they beheld, not $35.00, but $50.00. That’s right—$50.00!!!
I couldn’t just sit and stare in dismay—there were other people coming up behind me. I left the parking lot and pulled into a carwash to read The Citation and accompanying envelope. It gave a number to call if I had questions. Boy, did I ever have a question! “Can you waive it, please?”
I figured there was no time like the present to deal with the issue at hand. I dialed the number and a young lady answered. I pleasantly explained my situation and asked her if they ever work with people on these things. She said that I could go through the appeal process and see if they would approve it. She gave me directions to the Transportation building, and we hung up.
I drove the five minutes over to the Transportation Office and took my Citation and parking permit inside. I was given an Appeal Form to fill out, and they took my permit and made a copy of it. In the appeal spot, I explained my circumstances and requested that they void the citation or, at the very least, reduce the amount of the fine. The Citation was stapled to the Appeal, and the young lady told me that they should have an answer for me in “two to four months.”
Two to four months?? Do they realize how long that is? If it only takes two months that will take us up to December 3rd, which is only two weeks before the semester ends. If it takes longer than that, it will take us past the end of the semester, and I’ve heard that they will not release final grades until all tickets have been paid. That just won’t do! And what if they won’t let me register for classes?? That absolutely won’t do!!
My ride back to Franklin wasn’t a very pleasant one. The conversation with myself was a rather stern one. “It’s time to sit up and Pay Attention!” “But I didn’t mean to do it…” “That was an entirely avoidable situation!” “I just forgo-o-ot…”
I’m noticing a pattern here: I forgot to call the repair shop; I forgot to hang the permit. Just when did I lose it?? I generally try to be cool and collected. I try to keep it all together. I mean, this really would be a perfect Kris Story, wouldn’t it? It would go so well with “A Fit of Dullness," "Parking Blues," and “Joy in the Journey,” wouldn’t it? Is being called Kris messing with my psyche?
So now I wait…and hope…and pray.
*Sigh*
It’s official! I’m Super-Annoyed. I only thought I was annoyed before, now I know I am.
Okay, I know I’ve alluded to the Parking Issues at WKU. I don’t know of any other topic on campus that everyone has a strong opinion on as much as parking. If a professor is tired of their students sitting there in silence, all they need to do is mention parking and the students begin to buzz like an angry swarm of bees. There is the cost of parking permits ($75), the lack of parking spaces, the injustice of taking a commuter parking lot and making it half faculty parking, the injustice of being shut out (or run out) of parking structures prior to games, etc., etc.
Last Thursday evening, I took my car to the repair shop after hours and left it there, hoping that they would have an opportunity fix it the next day. I had forgotten to call earlier in the day to make sure they could get to it but decided to take my chances since I had an opportunity to use Jolene’s car on Friday. Though Jolene had a parking permit, I took my permit from the car, just in case they couldn’t get to it and I’d have to leave it until Monday. If that happened, I’d have to borrow Mom’s van and would need the permit.
My car was, indeed, repaired, and I was able to pick it up on Friday evening after work. I transferred all of my stuff from Jolene’s car to mine but failed to pull the parking permit out of my basket of stuff and hang it up. On Saturday, as Kris and I were headed to Bowling Green, she mentioned my parking permit, but it was in the back seat where I couldn’t reach it at the time. I told her that she must NOT let me forget to put it back up before Monday morning. (I think we can all see where this is heading. In hindsight, I should have screeched to a halt in the middle of the road and marched around to the back seat and dug the permit back out.)
Fast forward to Monday morning: I had attended my classes and left my Meteorology class in a very good mood, having just received my first test back with a nice perfect score. I made my way to the car, dodging around the cars cruising the parking lot like vultures. As I reached my car, someone spotted me. They pulled up to wait on me to back out so they could claim my spot. I got into the car and backed out of my spot, keeping an eye on the car waiting. It was inching closer to make sure no one else came out of the blue and took it out from under their very nose.
As I put my car in gear and looked out the windshield, I saw the Offending Paper. My heart plummeted to the very tip of my second toe on my left foot. I knew, without looking, that I had indeed forgotten to hang my parking permit back up. I put my car in park, got out, and snatched the Awful Paper from under my windshield wiper. I glanced at The Citation, expecting to see $35.00 on it—just like the other tickets I’d seen on commuter vehicles parked in faculty parking. My eyes bugged out as they beheld, not $35.00, but $50.00. That’s right—$50.00!!!
I couldn’t just sit and stare in dismay—there were other people coming up behind me. I left the parking lot and pulled into a carwash to read The Citation and accompanying envelope. It gave a number to call if I had questions. Boy, did I ever have a question! “Can you waive it, please?”
I figured there was no time like the present to deal with the issue at hand. I dialed the number and a young lady answered. I pleasantly explained my situation and asked her if they ever work with people on these things. She said that I could go through the appeal process and see if they would approve it. She gave me directions to the Transportation building, and we hung up.
I drove the five minutes over to the Transportation Office and took my Citation and parking permit inside. I was given an Appeal Form to fill out, and they took my permit and made a copy of it. In the appeal spot, I explained my circumstances and requested that they void the citation or, at the very least, reduce the amount of the fine. The Citation was stapled to the Appeal, and the young lady told me that they should have an answer for me in “two to four months.”
Two to four months?? Do they realize how long that is? If it only takes two months that will take us up to December 3rd, which is only two weeks before the semester ends. If it takes longer than that, it will take us past the end of the semester, and I’ve heard that they will not release final grades until all tickets have been paid. That just won’t do! And what if they won’t let me register for classes?? That absolutely won’t do!!
My ride back to Franklin wasn’t a very pleasant one. The conversation with myself was a rather stern one. “It’s time to sit up and Pay Attention!” “But I didn’t mean to do it…” “That was an entirely avoidable situation!” “I just forgo-o-ot…”
I’m noticing a pattern here: I forgot to call the repair shop; I forgot to hang the permit. Just when did I lose it?? I generally try to be cool and collected. I try to keep it all together. I mean, this really would be a perfect Kris Story, wouldn’t it? It would go so well with “A Fit of Dullness," "Parking Blues," and “Joy in the Journey,” wouldn’t it? Is being called Kris messing with my psyche?
So now I wait…and hope…and pray.
*Sigh*
posted by Sharon @ 8:54 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
I hear you about expensive parking and parking on game days...
And I hear you about "losing it," only I can't claim such a recent date of occurrence as perhaps you can. :) It is more of a chronic condition for me, though I am not hopeless for a cure.
You have a fun style of writing - keep it up!
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