They say you should write about what you know. And this, I know.
After my last class ended almost a month ago, about 3:30 pm, I discovered a parking violation ticket on my vehicle in the F Lot, to be exact, just above the 400 Building. Driving past the clearly marked for Staff only D Lot before turning right and parking in the F Lot just to the right, and on the right side of the building, being careful not to park in the handicapped spaces was my routine.
I felt good parking there, not only because of the proximity to all of my classes in that building, I knew I had my $40 parking pass with my $3 stiffened plastic, rear view mirror hanging tag proudly and visibly displayed.
The violation was listed at $40, boosting my parking fee for the semester to a whopping $80. On the Cabrillo College parking violation CC 98364 was the following code with a box checked for violation 21113a (24) Parking Lot Use. In the comments section were the words “No Staff Parking”. Do they think I am Staff? Although I couldn’t make out the signature by the issuing officer, which appeared to be made with one flowing motion like a Japanese Sumi-e ink drawing, as an ergonomically non-injurious worker-compensation related repetitive motion prevention technique. Either that, or Badge #5, which was clearly written in the badge # section, artfully I might add as a Zen master, painting their tickets as pieces of art in their daily citation writing meditation. Om, Om on the range.
Hoping the office would still be open, as I had been there previously to resolve a prior. Hmmm does that make me a repeat offender? It does sound criminal just typing it out loud. Well sure enough the door was unlocked and they were open until 4pm said the signage on the building, and thankfully there was someone at the desk. When I responded to her question “How may I help you?”, I must admit I was incredulous that I should receive a $40 parking ticket for being mistaken as staff, when I was clearly by my parking tag, a student, and won’t you dismiss this promptly please I replied. “Oh, she said, they wrote it incorrectly, it is staff only parking and says so on the sign.” I had been parking there for the past 3 weeks without receiving any citations and had never noticed the sign, although the parking had been easily obtainable in that lot. This must have been a case that if it’s too good to be true, it’s probably not.
I previously served two- 2 year terms on the Cabrillo College Citizens Oversight Bond Committee, an unpaid position with one perquisite, a parking pass that allowed me to park anywhere on campus with impunity including staff parking with the only exceptions being handicapped spots and fire lanes. And, even after my 4 year stint ended, I would drop in for lunch occasionally and park near the cafeteria in a staff spot. This was a reward I had earned that I appreciated as a token of goodwill for serving the College and the Public, that is, until the day I forgot to display it on the dashboard and took the ticket to the same office I found myself at today. I did appeal that one and eventually had to go beyond the normal parameters to the person who issued it to me, a staff member on the committee. She was able to go above and beyond and have it dismissed with one caveat. Yep, you guessed it. I had to surrender my precious parking pass in exchange for dismissing the $40 ticket, saying that the parking division would no longer honor it in lieu of its predominant role of raising revenue through the writing of tickets. So now for me as the old adage suggests, ‘There are no free lunches’, at least as far as parking at Cabrillo is concerned.
And so when the parking desk attendant insisted it was a staff lot, and not a student lot, I became upset. “I had never perceived it”, the signage that is, I said; still in disbelief. As she showed me the maps reinforcing her position, she said I could contest the ticket, and fully in the middle of my upset asked “What are the chances they would overturn the ticket or even reduce it?” She suggested the answer would be none. There would be none because it was not a student lot; but that I should go ahead and fill the form out if I want to contest it.
I think that must have been when my sense of entitlement kicked in coming along for the ride as my anger continued to rise like magma pushing up within me as lava flow exiting a volcano. I observed myself blowing my own top and in doing so, you guessed it, I dropped the “F Bomb”. Oh yeah, there was no mistaking it. I dropped it, and devastation followed. My own devastation that is.
When the Sheriffs exited their office into the narrow hall across from the desk, they firmly asked me in unison to exit the building, which I explained I was already in the process of doing. When I got to my car I saw the male version of one of the sheriffs come out to take a photo of my license plate asking for my driver’s license. When he returned with the female version of the sheriff, he told me he would be reporting me to the Dean of Students, and that she would contact me regarding the Student Rights and Responsibilities and the Code of Conduct, along with the Process Steps I don’t recall signing, do you?
Among those responsibilities accordingly, disruptive students will be held accountable if their behavior interferes with a safe learning environment. Such behavior includes 17 stated items. To the best of my ability in finding the appropriate charge, I may have violated #8: Offensive use of profanity or vulgar language. None of the consequences by the way are to be taken lightly. And I have no doubt there will be consequences. Once you drop the “F Bomb” there is no turning back or take overs’.
After no guns were drawn and calmer heads prevailed, they went back to the office and I went back to the scene of the crime, and I’ll be damned if that staff only sign was there all the time, and why there were so many spaces available in Lot F in the first place. So, what did I do? What could I do? I drove back to the sheriff parking bungalow to apologize hoping to make the 4pm closing time. When I arrived, alas it was 4:03 pm and the door was locked. I knew I had to apologize right then and there shortly after the incident to have a chance at redemption. So I knocked and waited. And thankfully, the desk clerk opened the door. I told her I drove over there and sure enough I saw the sign clearly stating the words Staff Parking. I said that “I apologize, and I am sorry I said that to you” for which she replied “Thank you for saying so.” The tension lifted and amends were made, and just then the male version of the sheriff came out into the hallway and asked “What did you say? I didn’t hear you.” To which I replied that I saw the sign, I was clearly wrong, and that I apologized to her, the desk clerk that is. I also told him that I did not owe him an apology though, to which he agreed. I thought to myself if he had any discretion in the matter, perhaps he wouldn’t report me to the Dean, but that would probably be too magical an ending to this story. But, you never know where goodwill will take you if your heart is pure and your love is true.
I must say that I am so glad I had the opportunity to apologize to the citation desk clerk then and there. She didn’t deserve it after all; she was just doing her job. I realized that probably happens a lot in her function at the parking citation sheriff bungalow.
A cautionary tale from me to you, and a Bob Dylan lyric from a song written long ago now… ”Don’t follow leaders and watch your parking meters.
