Thirtysomething

I Am a Victim of My Own Stupidity

About a week ago, Ron and I filled out a Residential Parking Permit application. We already have a parking spot for our apartment, but the permit only costs $35 for the year, so we figured we'd get one anyway. Ron asked me to fill out the application, which I did and he had gotten copies of his license, our vehicle registration and everything else we needed. He put all the items in the envelope, with the application, and mailed it off.

Then we realized we never included the check for $35. Ron tried to make that out to be my fault, since the check was mentioned as part of the application, and I had been the one filling out the application. But I argued that since he's the one who sealed the envelope, it was up to him to make sure everything we needed was in there.

Regardless, late in the afternoon today, I decide that I'll go to the Parking Authority and get the permit, because if you apply in person, you get a permit the same day. I thought carefully about this decision: I had the day off from work, but I was supposed to be resting. The Parking Authority offices are about 26 blocks from my apartment and these days going anywhere involves me thinking out what would happen if I went into labor at said location. I figured I'd go late in the day, when it was less likely to be crowded, and I'd take a cab. I could do this. What was the worst that could happen? That my water breaks in some smelly cab? It probably wouldn't be the worst thing that's happened to that cab. Besides I know it will make Ron very happy to get home from work and find that the permit is taken care of. I'm not much help to him these days, but at least this I can handle.

So I gather everything I need. Double check my documents. Bring a copy of my lease in case my change of address card isn't enough. Get out onto the sidewalk and realize I forgot my checkbook. Go back inside and get the checkbook. Hail cab and find the Parking Authority. Am very pleased to see there's no line. Nice lady gets the permit application for me and asks for my driver's license and vehicle registration. My vehicle registration. The one that's in the car. The car the Ron has in NJ.

I walk out with a blank application, which is exactly how far in the process I was a week ago when we mailed off an application with no check.

Someone shoot me.

Labels: annoying me, i like stories

posted by DJ Heavy D @ 2:05 PM