I'm probably wrong, but I have always been under the belief that loading zones are exactly for that. Loading things. Loading zones are the five minute get out of jail free parks that you use when you have a five minute errand and need a car spot in a busy place so you can do you very quick business - be that collect something, dropping something off or the like. This is why they are called loading zones. It's a bit like the kiss and ride at the airport. Pick 'em up, drop and off, give em a kiss, get going.
Well, today, it seems, I've been proved wrong.
I have a mailbox in the CBD. As I'm working from home, this means once a week I need to go clear the mailbox. As I'm not getting on public transport at the moment, this means taking the car into town on a special trip to get the mail. Normally, I would swing by the mailbox on the way home from work. Easy.
Since we've been in lockdown, I've made this trip roughly once a week.
Well, today, I took the car into town. I found a loading zone nearby as every other car park on the street was unavailable. It's about a seven minute round trip from the car, to the post office, collect the parcel and walk back to the car. Easy.
Today, I got back to the car after then seven minute round trip to find a parking ticket for the amount of $165 under the windscreen wiper.
Like what the actual fuck! The ticket says somthing about it being for being stopped in a Loading Zone - Road Rules 2017.
I hate getting fucking parking tickets. I get one every eighteen months. I'm normally very careful. I do pay for parking when I need to. But I have always been under the impression that Loading Zones are for this type of thing.
Like, from where I'm from, loading zones are for everybody, for five minute jobs. You don't abuse them. But they are there for a reason. For picking shit up. Five minute trips.
I was seething as I drove home. As I turned into Collins Street I spotted a parking inspector (Maggot). I pulled up behind him and wound down my window.
No not to abuse him (though I was using some pretty colourful language in my head) I asked the man about the rules around Loading Zones.
"Loading Zones are only for vans, utes and cars that are marked with corporate branding," he told me.
"Since when?"
"Since forever."
"Bullshit," I countered. "I'm from Adelaide. you have whatever time is on the sign to pick up or drop off your stuff."
"Well not here. You can write in to contest the ticket."
"I will do that."
I thanked the man for his time and went off down the road. Just because he was Attila the Hun in a former life and has to spend his next fifty reincarnations as a parking inspector doesn't mean I can't be civil.
I will write in and contest the ticket. I'm going to use the Adelaide Defence.
I'm still miffed, but odds on, I will end up paying the fucker.
Hate parking tickets.
Rant over.
Today's song:
Well, today, it seems, I've been proved wrong.
I have a mailbox in the CBD. As I'm working from home, this means once a week I need to go clear the mailbox. As I'm not getting on public transport at the moment, this means taking the car into town on a special trip to get the mail. Normally, I would swing by the mailbox on the way home from work. Easy.
Since we've been in lockdown, I've made this trip roughly once a week.
Well, today, I took the car into town. I found a loading zone nearby as every other car park on the street was unavailable. It's about a seven minute round trip from the car, to the post office, collect the parcel and walk back to the car. Easy.
Today, I got back to the car after then seven minute round trip to find a parking ticket for the amount of $165 under the windscreen wiper.
Like what the actual fuck! The ticket says somthing about it being for being stopped in a Loading Zone - Road Rules 2017.
I hate getting fucking parking tickets. I get one every eighteen months. I'm normally very careful. I do pay for parking when I need to. But I have always been under the impression that Loading Zones are for this type of thing.
Like, from where I'm from, loading zones are for everybody, for five minute jobs. You don't abuse them. But they are there for a reason. For picking shit up. Five minute trips.
I was seething as I drove home. As I turned into Collins Street I spotted a parking inspector (Maggot). I pulled up behind him and wound down my window.
No not to abuse him (though I was using some pretty colourful language in my head) I asked the man about the rules around Loading Zones.
"Loading Zones are only for vans, utes and cars that are marked with corporate branding," he told me.
"Since when?"
"Since forever."
"Bullshit," I countered. "I'm from Adelaide. you have whatever time is on the sign to pick up or drop off your stuff."
"Well not here. You can write in to contest the ticket."
"I will do that."
I thanked the man for his time and went off down the road. Just because he was Attila the Hun in a former life and has to spend his next fifty reincarnations as a parking inspector doesn't mean I can't be civil.
I will write in and contest the ticket. I'm going to use the Adelaide Defence.
I'm still miffed, but odds on, I will end up paying the fucker.
Hate parking tickets.
Rant over.
Today's song:
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