For once, I wish they would stop replacing real people with fucking robots.
It was Monday, it was colder than it should be at this point, woke up late (a weekend of sleeping on couches did me in when I finally got to sleep in my bed - fuck the alarm)... wound up screeching into the $7/day parking ramp seven minutes after I had to be at work and getting upstairs where I made no eye contact and just got down to work without making fucking excuses. I haven't used "my alarm didn't go off" yet this year, and I didn't want to waste it on a day when I was just too comfortable to get the hell up.
The day ran slow - painfully so. Coming off of a three-day weekend, I think that getting up late was just the icing on the cake and was the precursor for a day of disaster. I even went so far as to realize that I had left the last $5 I had in paper at home and only had $2 in quarters. Great. Had to hit up a coworker for a five-spot, and all but ran like hell out to my car.
Perfect, great, wonderful. Get to my car, the jackass that parked next to me that morning had left so I could actually get in, I opened the windows and cranked some music (Gwar, as it happens to be lately), and headed out. All I wanted was home. Get downstairs, feed my $5 bill and the change I have into the meter machine that replaced a real person a few months ago.... when the last quarter I put in just. won't. go. It keeps coming back. I had no other change but that quarter, a nickel, and a couple of pennies. Fuck. I pull it out of the coin return and the fucking thing is so mangled that it's no surprise the machine wouldn't take it.
So I dig. And I dig around in my purse for a lone quarter that I know HAS to be floating around the bottom of my bag from a few too many nights drinking and needing jukebox money. No dice. What did I find, though? A business card case, a utility knife, an eyebrow filler pencil I have NEVER used, a giant binder clip, about three pens I'd stolen from the office... and not a fucking quarter. Nothing equating to a quarter.
Because there was nobody at the window (that's now blacked in for maximum nap comfort), I did what I thought I had to. Backed up and prayed for a goddamn good samaritan to be behind me in the rapidly expanding line.
I ran up to this woman's window and obviously scared the shit out of her (I guess seeing a black-haired girl in a black corduroy jacket with a Pabst button and another reading "I'm a crafty motherfucker" makes people uncomfortable - who knew?) so I begged. I told her that all I had was that quarter and it was mangled and all I NEEDED to get out of that fucking ramp. She didn't have a quarter, but handed me a dollar. I thanked her - man, I don't even know if I would give someone looking like me money sometimes - and ran up to the machine, put the dollar in, grabbed the change, ran it back to her (along with my maimed quarter), ran back to my car, got in, and pulled out before the arm went down. That really just happened.
Whoever you are, nice minivan lady, thank you for not being too scared of me to help me out in my time of ridiculous need. Last time I ever pay for that shit in quarters, I'll tell you that.
3 comments:
Ahhh, I had this shit happen to me before! I was at a parade and fed the machine about $7 in quarters. When it came to putting in the last dollar it refused to take. It also refused to give my money back and decided to reboot to the first step again. I was livid. Got a paring ticket, but refused to pay it.
I've fed the entire $7 in quarters before... but now I guess I have to inspect my quarters before I think I can use 'em in the parking ramp. Who knew something so simple could be so difficult? NOT I.
It's pretty ridiculous. I hate paid parking lots so damn much. Downtown Edmonton is covered in them...they tore down historic buildings to make way for more lots. I won't go into a rant, but I'll just say I really want to move from this city...
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