Monday, January 23, 2006


I narrowly avoided getting a parking ticket on Saturday. We’d gone downtown to help some friends move—although we didn’t actually end up doing anything—and they only had metre parking available. We were about ten minutes overdue, and were heading back to the car, just in time to see the parking guy getting out of his car, and heading towards ours.

Now, I wasn’t too worried about it. He had caught me fair and square, and I was willing to pay the fine. But Andrea saw him, too, and started heading purposefully toward the car, to let him know we were about to get in it, and drive away. I saw him look at the slip of paper on our dash, and hesitate, because he wanted to give us the ticket, but after a brief internal debate, he decided not to bother.