Part of the Problem

DISCLAIMER: Outright snottiness exaggerated for entertainment value.

1994

It was a cold, blustery day at Taylor U, (Indiana winters will blow right through you if you let them), and I was delighted to squeeze Tallulah (the '83 monster station wagon) into a spot between two other cars in the small, snow-encrusted, library parking lot. Imagine my dismay in returning to find a $40 parking citation posted to my windshield, convulsing in the knife-like gale. My crime? Parking outside the lines.

Now, in general, I'll confess I can be self-righteous. My dear, loving mother has admitted I was nearly impossible to discipline as I would NEVER take ownership for wrongdoing. No... my intentions were ever pure as the gale-driven snow; anyone with the insensitivity to point out some flaw was surely making a gross error or had ignorantly misinterpreted my flawless motives. In euphemism, they called me, 'conscientious'. Multiply this tendency by 10 when I was in college.

Bottom line: that TU patrol had no chance whatsoever. Forget warmth; I was on a mission. Stubbornly indignant, I marched back to my dorm and snatched a camera, defeating the entire purpose of having driven in the first place. Marched back to the lot where I documented the crushing injustice of this ruse! (In my defense, $40 was no small change to a broke college kid; for a living, I served potato chips in the dining hall).

The TU patrolman must have known what he was in for the second I crashed into his office white-lipped and twitching. But, apparently, this gave him no advantage in forming his argument. When faced with my picture of the 1 SQUARE INCH of visible yellow parking line, followed by my pristine, articulate explanation that cars had been packed in on either side of me, his only response (which he stuttered out verbatim at least 6 times) was, "Do you want to be part of the problem, or part of the solution?" Immediately, I knew I had him. His argument was, sadly, (for him) weak - and I did not back down. This was injustice and I would NOT be served it.

Who won? Hm. Who shoveled the driveway last night? :-)

2007

I drive confidently into the parking lot of the business complex, towers of plowed snow piled at every corner. With each gap between vehicles, a new hope rises in my chest... My wish is simple: a space big enough to fit my SUV. As I'm forced further and further away from the building entrance, I keenly notice the cars which have parked a full 5 feet from the ones beside them. Perfectly spaced for lot-perusers to question whether they could just about nearly possibly squeeze in... but landing on the inevitable disappointing reality: "almost".

It's okay though. I feel no bitterness; I understand how it happened. They are part of the problem. We all are. And (with an ever so slight twinge of "SO THERE!" in remembering that stickler patrolman), I very happily join them.