Quarters
We all know them. We all hate them. We all give our quarters to them. Of course I am talking about the parking meters that surround us everyday.
Usually, I take the train in so I don't have to worry about finding a meter - but today was different. My brother let me borrow his car this week, so I decided to drive.
The nice thing is that I got here early enough so that there were a lot of open spaces on the other side of the Gardner Museum. Of course, you know what that means - searching for meters that are either out of order or have a little time left on them. I was unsuccessful in finding either, so I settled for a regular old space.
The only problem was, I had only 2 quarters. That's great if I wanted to get out, walk around the block, get back into my car, and leave - but I wanted to work (or at least needed to) work all day. These 2 quarters basically only bought me enough time to get more quarters.
So can somebody tell me why I can't find a change machine anywhere around here? Why do I have to buy a Mountain Dew at the bookstore and pay with a $20 so that I can ask for two dollars in quarters - and a hell of a lot one one dollar bills?
Why do I have to use the Coke machine as a change machine. It just doesn't feel right. It'd be like using a fax machine to make a phone call. Sure, I've seen those phones connected to fax machines, but I've never seen anyone ever use one to make a call - and it's certainly not the main function of the machine.
Coke machines are there to supply me with carbonated heaven. Instead I have to trick the Coca-Cola bottling company into thinking I am giving it money, only to ask for that money right back.
I did that about five times today. Hope it doesn't run out of change for everyone else.
Sure, I am complaining. But I consider myself one of the lucky ones. At least I had enough quarters to pay for full day. So I had no worries. Right?
When I ran over there a little after 3pm, I saw the meter man standing by my brother's car.
I made as mad of a dash as my frame would allow and bumbled my way over to the car. I still had 7 minutes to go. I won! Oh wait, maybe this guy was tagging me because I'd been there all day....
There is a four hour limit on these meters. You'd think that means you can only pay for four hours at a time. But I once got a ticket, with a fully fed meter, for staying in the same spot for more than four hours.
....But no, that wasn't it either. So, maybe it was just a coincidence that the meter man was next to the car that I drove in.
"Do you know you have expired plates?"
You have to be kidding me. My brother lets me borrow his car and I drive it into Boston on expired plates? The registration is up to date, but the sticker isn't on the plate - so he handed me a nice $40 ticket.
Which I am happily handing right to my brother.
(Sigh) Sometimes all the quarters in the world can't save you.
Posted: August 11, 2008 4:28 pm | 0 comments
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