Let me post this while I’m still furious and thinking irrationally. This afternoon, I decide to drive downtown and exchange cash for goods at a local business. I head for Crown Street, since there’s usually parking spaces there. I spot the one open space on the block where I want to park and pull in.
I’m always glad to pop in a few quarters. It’s a bargain and the New Haven meter readers rival the Taliban for blind devotion to an oppressive cause. The problem is, THERE’S NO METER ATTACHED TO THE POLE.
I figure that if a meter reader comes along, he/she/it will recognize the intractable logic at work here: IT’S NOT MY FAULT THERE’S NO DAMN METER ATTACHED TO THE POLE!
Of course, when I return about 15 minutes later, there’s a $15 ticket on my windshield. I figure these are my options: 1. Drive around, find the meter reader and ask he/she/it what the hell their friggin’ problem is. 2. Dispute the ticket and waste precious hours of my life dealing with political bureaucrats who would make John Mark Karr look like Mister Rogers. 3. Vote for M. Jodi Rell.
As I drive away, I notice there’s at least nine meter-less poles on Crown Street. John DeStefano, my vote is for sale. The price is $15.