Dear Local Council, a.k.a The Local Robber Shop,
Thank you so much for reminding me of the importance of parking restrictions in my local neighbourhood, last Friday night. I see myself as a law-abiding citizen and understand the justification for rules, no matter how petty, so I can only hope that the ridiculous fine you imposed on me was to do with teaching me a lesson rather than (what I suspect), the need to meet revenue targets.
It was Friday night, FFS!
I’m sure you are aware of the very limited parking options in suburbs close to the CBD, even though no-one can actually afford to park WITHIN the CBD, unless they are a Packer or Malcolm Turnball, where the going rate is about $40 per hour. But in my defence, I did not park illegally out of laziness, but from a genuine mistake, and as much as I understand that such a breach of the law deserves a knuckle rap…
Did I truly deserve that fucking big a lesson? On a Friday night? Just prior to Friday drinks?
Whatever happened to the punishment fitting the crime?
I understand, too, that your ranger would have been oblivious to my side of the story, or that my small error of judgment late on a Friday night would go on to spoil my whole weekend, as well as my short term relationship with my husband, that we had to forgo our Friday night take-away to compensate for the fine and that our children ate toast for dinner. OR THAT I HAD ONLY PARKED FOR 30 MINUTES!
You MUST believe that a $248 fine fits the crime of parking on a suburban street, but it felt like the height of suckdom when I had only popped out to do an hour’s work, (earning approximately a fifth of the amount of the fine), was not parked over a driveway (God forbid!), hadn’t blocked anyone in, killed any children and the act was truly a genuine mistake.
So that I don’t make the same mistake again, please would you advise me which local tertiary institution offers the best Degree In Parking Restrictions to teach ignoramus’s such as myself how to interpret your fucking ridiculous signs. Because although I am a conscientious citizen who never parks illegally, sometimes the presence of eighteen different instructions for eighteen different time zones in one parking space confuses the fuck out of me, after I’ve circled around a suburb fourteen times when I’m already late to an appointment.