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July 07, 2010

No parking ticket!?

Thursday morning, June 17, I was meting with a client and a colleague in my office's conference area.

The client walked in worried about not having enough money for the parking meter and I assured her that the meeting would be over before her meter expired.

It wasn't.

As we were wrapping things up, she looked at the clock, saw she was overdue on the meter and told us she needed to leave. She started gathering her things and saying goodbye when, from our second floor office window, I saw it: the meter maid mobile, pulling up to the client's car.

"Meter maid!!!!!" I screamed and grabbed the quarters someone had instantly produced and shoved into my palm.

"Gooooooooooooooo!!!!!" they all screamed back.

I leapt down the stairs, sprang out the door and bounded across the street.

"Please!" I gasped. "It just expired! Here are quarters! Please no ticket! I know once you start writing the ticket you can keep going but please, please -- here are quarters!!"

She meter maid shot me an amused glance and gave her verdict. "Man, you're fast. Ok."


Upstairs, I saw them all leaning out the window and I shot them a thumbs up. When I walked in, we all high-fived. You see, they were under the impression that the client escaped the ticket because I had sprinted down and stopped the meter maid.

But I'll tell the real you why no ticket was issued.

Because it wasn't my car.

I am a ticket magnet. Remember those 3 tix I appealed and I promised seven whopping months ago to update you about? I FINALLY recently got the last of the three verdicts: all rejected. I tried lying (for this experiment, naturally ;) ), I tried citing policy, and I even tried being nice and sweet. Fail. Fail. Fail. (Here was that original post:

One more example: Just a few days ago I met with a different client at his establishment and for 10 minutes I kept saying, "I have to run and feed my meter. I'll be right back." The conversation kept going, I didn't extricate myself since it was on the verge of finishing, and when I got to the car, 8 minutes late, there was a ticket on the windshield.

So, the moral for avoiding tix is... Run fast? Always Ask?

Nah, much simpler: Don't be La Roxy.


(Any other strategies??? Dish them below. I'd love to hear your success stories since this is clearly not my forte!!)
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