Parking pride, peril and persuasion: My parking ticket adventure
CREDIT: GERARD CRECES
Some lovely window dressing for my windshield, courtesy of Fanshawe's parking enforcement.
Picture this: it’s a cold and dreary Friday afternoon in late November, and I’m heading out to Z building for class.
The entire parking lot has reserved signs. Some are red, some are white.
I throw my plastic down and purchase three hours, placing the ticket on my dash (as one does).
When I return to my car there is a new ticket, this one for $20.
I’m incensed, flabbergasted, stunned, shocked, and outraged. How could this happen? The whole lot says reserved and there is no signage to explain the reserved colour-coding.
Curses of excessive vileness force their way out of my mouth and bludgeon the crisp autumn air. I vow on the spot that I will fight this thing.
Oh yes...I will fight this thing.
Fast forward a couple weeks and surprise- surprise, I still hadn’t fought it. But with the end of semester looming and $20 on the line, I knew I had to act now or lose one of the final crumbs of OSAP I had left.
So, I headed to the parking office in D building – which I assumed was a place of despair and madness, where goblins brought their carbon- copy ticket stubs to some unknown yet all-powerful demigod to feast upon.
Instead, it was a bright, clean office. And there were no parking goblins.
The woman at the desk was extremely helpful, and listened to my tale of injustice with nary an eye roll. I described the whole situation – the lack of clarity, the confusing nature of the colour-coded reserved signs, that I still had half an hour on my pass when the ticket was written – and she took note.
To abuse the absolute worst phrase ever to grace the Internet, what she did next was shocking!
She handed me a form requesting a reconsideration of my ticket. Better yet, she helped me fill it out and provided me with information I was missing (since I totally forgot to bring the ticket with me to dispute it).
With pen in hand, I completed the form and handed it back, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
The kind woman handed me a card with website information so I can check my status in a couple weeks.
Two weeks later, I’m obsessively looking at Webadvisor to check if my final grades are in and I find that my parking ticket has been absolved. I had a zero-balance owing, which could only mean one thing: The system worked.
I thought about this article – what should have been a hit piece for petty vengeance – and how very, very different the ending had become.
It turns out Fanshawe’s parking office is actually a pretty understanding place.
I guess revenge is a dish best not served at all.
Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.
Some lovely window dressing for my windshield, courtesy of Fanshawe's parking enforcement.
Picture this: it’s a cold and dreary Friday afternoon in late November, and I’m heading out to Z building for class.
The entire parking lot has reserved signs. Some are red, some are white.
I throw my plastic down and purchase three hours, placing the ticket on my dash (as one does).
When I return to my car there is a new ticket, this one for $20.
I’m incensed, flabbergasted, stunned, shocked, and outraged. How could this happen? The whole lot says reserved and there is no signage to explain the reserved colour-coding.
Curses of excessive vileness force their way out of my mouth and bludgeon the crisp autumn air. I vow on the spot that I will fight this thing.
Oh yes...I will fight this thing.
Fast forward a couple weeks and surprise- surprise, I still hadn’t fought it. But with the end of semester looming and $20 on the line, I knew I had to act now or lose one of the final crumbs of OSAP I had left.
So, I headed to the parking office in D building – which I assumed was a place of despair and madness, where goblins brought their carbon- copy ticket stubs to some unknown yet all-powerful demigod to feast upon.
Instead, it was a bright, clean office. And there were no parking goblins.
The woman at the desk was extremely helpful, and listened to my tale of injustice with nary an eye roll. I described the whole situation – the lack of clarity, the confusing nature of the colour-coded reserved signs, that I still had half an hour on my pass when the ticket was written – and she took note.
To abuse the absolute worst phrase ever to grace the Internet, what she did next was shocking!
She handed me a form requesting a reconsideration of my ticket. Better yet, she helped me fill it out and provided me with information I was missing (since I totally forgot to bring the ticket with me to dispute it).
With pen in hand, I completed the form and handed it back, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
The kind woman handed me a card with website information so I can check my status in a couple weeks.
Two weeks later, I’m obsessively looking at Webadvisor to check if my final grades are in and I find that my parking ticket has been absolved. I had a zero-balance owing, which could only mean one thing: The system worked.
I thought about this article – what should have been a hit piece for petty vengeance – and how very, very different the ending had become.
It turns out Fanshawe’s parking office is actually a pretty understanding place.
I guess revenge is a dish best not served at all.
Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.