Welcome and hello!
I am Laura Hugg, a Chicago based comedian, blogging for my first time on this website. I am blogging from the bedroom of my apartment. I am sitting in my favorite spot in my place, at the head of my bed, near the window. It's the perfect spot for contemplation, self-reflection and watching people get parking tickets.
One cozy winter Saturday morning last year, I was attending one of my support group meetings on ZOOM. It was a mild day for a Chicago winter. The sun was shining and there was no real snow on the ground. I gazed down on the charming urban scene of my block, watching fit people head to and from the YMCA located across from my building. When an ominous figure appeared, a Chicago parking official! A meter maid! Who was a grown man probably close to sixty years old. I have no idea how he identifies but I identified him as evil!
"Uh oh, some poor sucker is going to be upset", I said to myself as he made his way to each car window, looking for city stickers.
Just as I was thinking to myself, "That sucks. I am glad I am tucked safely in my bed, attending this virtual meeting, getting the help I need. I am soo fortunate!", I saw this harbinger of doom put a ticket on my car, which was parked across the street in front of my building, within perfect view from my perch.
Quickly my gratitude shifted into uncomfortable confusion. My tags were up to date, there was no street cleaning. What could this be for? I threw on a coat and shoes, left the meeting in progress and went down to my car to investigate. I had the dim sense there was a mix up and a solution. Sure enough, the ticket was for an expired city sticker. in my window. I had purchased the new sticker before the expiration date, but I spaced out and forgot to put it in the window of my car. It was sitting in an envelope on my kitchen table.
Definitely an on-brand move for me.
After adhering the new sticker to my windshield, per the directions on parking ticket page of the website of the blood-sucking Chicago.gov, I disputed the ticket by mailing in my receipts and copy of the new sticker. They dismissed the ticket.
What I noticed afterwards is that my blood pressure never did get too high when I got the ticket. I didn't get super pissed like I did back in my more feral days. Most of the tickets I get are correct assessments of errors I make and laws I break behind the wheel. I am looking at you, park safety zone on Western ave! And I am half joking when I refer to the Government as blood suckers. My sense there was a mix up and a solution might have been dim, but it was there, bright enough for me to recognize. Bright enough that I could trust myself and not go too hard on the meter person when challenged.
All the meditation I do at my window must be working.
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