If you’ve read my previous blogs, then you know how careful
(freaked out) I’ve been regarding the street parking here in the South Loop of
Chicago. I’ve paid attention to street signs, checked online parking maps, and
religiously checked my car’s vicinity for new “no-parking” notices. Imagine my
dismay to return from my recent cross-country, fly/driving trip only to find a
parking ticket on my previously only leaf-covered car.
Prior to taking my impromptu trip, I was excitedly planning
to visit the Illinois DMV. After 27 years of #40XXX58, I was ready to replace
my ODL with some official Chicago credentials. Besides the fact I desperately
needed a new picture on my license, (it was taken during my short stint as a
blonde and is not my favorite. Let’s face it, I’m a hardcore brunette) I was
ready to become a real Chicagoan.
Coming home and finding this ticket actually hit me pretty
hard. I thought I was being so careful, but when I headed out to get groceries
yesterday and saw that soggy piece of orange and white official-ness under my
wiper, I wanted to cry. I was so careful during the road construction mess,
when it seemed I had to move my car daily. I constantly placed my Soldier Field
placard in the window …just in case there was an event I wasn’t aware of. Only
to be undone by a previously unknown, City of Chicago website posted, street
cleaning schedule. FYI: for the rest of the year street sweeping is “weather
permitting” and apparently they will be posting signs. Good to know.
Getting this ticket jarred my pursuit of perfectionism
(ego), because I hadn’t even thought to worry about street cleaning schedules.
Where I’m from, street sweepers just drive around your car. They don’t ticket
you for being in their way. The worst part is that my car sat there for four
days with this ticket on the window, announcing to all the neighbors that I’m a
parking genius (screw-up).
After whining about this ticket on Facebook, I have learned
a few things: First, spending time complaining about getting a ticket is going
to take up way too much time. Duly noted. Second, there are Chicagoans who
actually have a monthly budget for parking tickets and red light tickets.
Seriously? It must be true, because when I went online to pay my ticket, I saw
they provide enough room to pay TEN tickets at a time! TEN!
And the last thing I learned? My piddly little $50 parking
ticket is not worth crying over (my car wasn’t towed or booted right?)
So, on this gloomy rainy day where I am marinating in a
Trader Joe’s French Vanilla ice cream soaked pity party over my parking
incompetence, I decided it’s time to adjust my attitude about this ticket.
Rather than viewing it as another new girl in town screw-up, I can accept it as
my Welcome to Chicagoland Ticket. This credential is more official than any
Illinois driver’s license.
My self-esteem will heal and my parking pride will survive.
I’m sure more tickets will happen, so I will just make a budget and prepare to
face them when they come. Meanwhile, I’m stocking up on French Vanilla ice cream.
