Good Old Fashioned Parking

Montreal has the most insane parking restrictions in the world, hands down. Today was the first day of the summer season parking restrictions. The snow is gone so the rules ramp up. It's kinda like opening day in baseball. The meter maids come out of hibernation, shine up their trusty pens, and fire away. I woke up this morning and could feel something just wasn't right. I rolled up the blinds and looked out at our beautiful red Corolla station wagon, parked aginst the curb in all its glory. My glance rose up to find a freshly laid white parking ticket placed dutifully under the left wiper. Rats. Not the best way to start the day. Nothing like getting a fine while you sleep. I was caught completely off guard, never saw it coming. Today was the first day of the big-league parking restrictions - I usually last at least a week before getting nailed like that. Dom told me to chill out and look on the bright side. "It's supposed to be funny - it's a parking ticket." I figured she was right and made the best of it by opening a fresh box of Mini-Wheats. Mini-Wheats always cheer me up. They're wholesome and delicious. Dom went outside to grab the ticket. She came back in with a huge smile across her face. She dropped the ticket on the table, "Here you go, Mr. Grumpy." I glanced down from the nutritional information on the Mini-Wheats box (high in dietary fiber by the way) and pried open the ticket with disgust. Those bastards. Writing tickets while people sleep. I looked at the damage. $0. A Warning. I looked up at Dom and matched her smile. She took the ticket from me and said, "See Mr. Baboon, it's supposed to be funny - it's a parking ticket." Dom was right. It was funny. The Mini-Wheats were just a bonus. I never thought I'd ever say this, but today I was happy to drive a Corolla, instead of a Fiero. But then again, tomorrow's another day. Check your meter - Kyle

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