Well, I made it into work this working. My first day back. A day I planned in advance to ensure seamlessness. I guess I ripped my seam...
My car was parked outside my house in a spot that doesn’t require a zoned parking permit, but when I woke up this morning, the first thing I remembered was… that sign also says “with the exception of Tuesday.” No parking on Tuesday for street cleaning.
It just so happens today is Tuesday.
Kristen (roommate) was kind enough to move my car to a two-hour parking spot; however, my grocery-getting, lengthy ‘little’ car didn’t fully fit into the spot.
Today I am thankful for the homeless park across the street… A homeless man who saw Kristen moving my car came and knocked on our door to tell us my car was being ticketed and would soon be towed.
Unhappy camper and seam starting to rip, I crutched out to my car where by the traffic cop was writing the ticket. “My roommate is moving this car. She came to open the door for me, because as you might notice, I can’t actually get out by myself,” I said to her in an attempted calm manner. All she said was “I don’t care” and handed me the ticket. So with a smirk on my face I told her to [unfriendly words] as she walked away (…hopefully getting hit by Karma and/or the nearest bus on her way back to Sticky Fingers Bakery on the next block).
Annoyed, I decided to take the car issue into my own hands. And because it was oddly uncomfortable, I didn’t take any photos to document the trip, but I somehow managed to prop my crutches in the passenger seat and lay my gimp leg over them as I drove the three miles to Northeast DC to park my car outside of Peter’s house. (Parking signs do not exist in the ‘hood.)
From there, I caught a $12 cab to work, and now here I sit. My leg is being propped up on an extra foot stool we had lying around the office (probably for many, many years – definitely has the retro feel). Not to mention that I haven’t had a sip of coffee since last Monday in the hospital waiting room (the term “coffee” should be used lightly here, as it was right up there in the running for worst coffee ever, next to the Amtrak coffee on the way to Canada).
Sitting upright at this desk is not doing wonders for my foot. It’s 1:00. I give myself another hour or so, and then I'll make an attempt at a “seamless” commute back home.
I just realized I don't even have the option of taking the metro back to my house. While Metro Center is the only one block from my office, there is no elevator at the 13th and F St entrance. Good planning, WMATA!
[Update: As of Thursday, May 21 at 2:49 PM -- Parking ticket paid.]
[Another Update: One week later, Thursday, May 28, The Washington Times runs this article about parking tickets and how 50% of people who fight the ticket get it dismissed, sigh: Read Washington Times article here]
Amtrak coffee rules, watch yo mouth.
ReplyDelete