Parking Meter Frustration

The world’s Greatest Husband and I don’t fight.  Really, we disagree, we get cranky but rarely do you hear us bickering (quite opposite of my years with Mr. Not-So-Good.) This was all put to a test on Saturday as we found on-street parking in downtown Boston.  Which for the record, this is my blog, so I will simply state, we should have parked in the Boylston Garage, like I suggested. 

After squeezing into a space, negotiating are we too close to that fire hydrant or not? We exit the car, a bit close to the hydrant (again this is my blog).  Um…. Disclaimer:  We don’t live in the city and are not at all familiar with today’s modern day parking meters or etiquette but to our credit we do have 43 years of schooling between us, that’s 2 bachelor’s degrees, 3 Master’s, a 6^th year and a PhD.  That put aside, I admit, I am a bit heated over the proximity to the hydrant as I approach the meter.  We put in the credit card, of course - backwards, re-enter and a ticket pops out.  Yes, so much cheaper than the garage, I get it. 

So now imagine you are dining outside at the Panera Bread watching this whole parking meter couple showdown.  That’s where I start to giggle because I know somewhere in Boston there is a married couple still laughing at us as they watched how this all unfolded from a distance.  In addition there are probably a group of young 20-somethings  laughing at how old we looked as we tried to figure out this new meter and possibly an additional young married couple that we scared enough that they vowed to actually never be us. 

This is where it gets good.  He takes the ticket and walks away.  I sternly say, “we have to put that on the window” and point to the line of cars that have tickets stuck to the inside of the passenger windows.  Baffled yet going along with my request he walks to the car, looks at the ticket, presses it to the window, it falls and he decides the dashboard is the next best thing.  The rule follower in me screams “NO – the window” and he tries once again, pushing the ticket to the side of the window, ya still didn’t work.  Frustrated he walks to the meter.  I follow bickering or maybe bitching is the better word and try to figure out how do you make this thing stick? I pull it apart as if it was a sticker but it still won’t stick.  Now I too am frustrated.  The World’s Greatest Husband is done with me, done with the meter and begins to walk away.  This pushes every parking meter button in me and I am determined, finally I figure out how to make the sticker stick! Satisfaction is a wonderful thing.  We spent our first few minutes in Boston power walking through our couple frustration; I swear I could have ran the Boston Marathon at that moment.  In the end all worked out, we soon saw ourselves and the situation for what it was, had a giggle and moved on.  I love that guy!  One of his favorite sayings? “I’d rather be married, than right.”  He gets it.