Every time I have to pay a fine to get my car back from an impound lot, I have a new appreciation for the concept of redemption. (I also have a new appreciation for my need to acquire common sense, but, you know, theology first, guys!)
The scene: it is 10:30 at night and every spot in the apartment parking lot is full. I drive around twice, and think, “Aw man, I’ll have to park somewhere else and walk. I’m tired and it’s dark and there’s a suspicious-looking person lurking over there. But wait! The handicap space is open! Seriously, how many disabled people are going to need to get into the apartment before 7:30 AM? And no one really checks on these things, right?”
The next morning, my car is gone, and I know immediately what happened. So I call the friendly local towing company that is holding my car hostage and we work out a ransom.
So, yes. I’m still working on this being-an-adult thing.
I was probably easily the most cheerful person the impound lot people had ever encountered, because, you know, these things just happen sometimes. I have this built into my budget. (What other people call their “Emergency Fund,” I call my “Wow, That Was Stupid Fund” because I assume anything that happens will be my fault. It usually is.) And despite the fact that I doubt I inconvenienced a single handicapped person by parking my car for a few hours in their designated spot, I did break a rule and I did receive a just penalty for it. (more…)