I decided to go to a job fair at the Minneapolis Convention Center today. It's for U. of M. students and alums only, but I'm desperate for a job so I thought I could sneak in. Couldn't -- they denied me at registration. The irony: I've been rejected for jobs, and now I've been rejected from even looking for jobs.
There were many reasons why I thought about not going. Getting rejected was one. The hassle and cost of parking is another. But I thought it was awesome that I passed by a car that was pulling away from a meter that is about as close to the convention center as you can get. So I was able to put a quarter in for 15 minutes, survey the fair, get my story straight, decide to try and register on-site (where I was summarily rejected like I said), then go back and put another two quarters into my meter and to put my coat in my car. The longest line at the fair, you see, was the one for coat check, for crissake.
Parking at a meter was awesome. Some dudes were paying three, even twelve dollars to park their cars, and I was going to go in for at least 75 cents. But when I got rejected with about 20 minutes left on my meter, I was faced with a choice: Leave immediately or stay in and use my time. I decided to do the latter because there was a voicemail on my cell I didn't catch. Sadly, I had to go through 25 previous voicemails to figure out that this guy was calling about a franchise opportunity that I went, ironically enough, to the Convention Center for two days ago. Then I called him back. Then I took a piss.
Then I realized that I was over five minutes past on my meter. I went out ... and goddammit, sure enough, I found a ticket on my windshield. I looked at my watch when I put my second quarter in and estimated that it would expire at 2:20. The time on my violation: 2:21. It was as if the meter maid was waiting for my meter to expire, idling her car next to mine to she can pounce the moment my meter started flashing red.
When shit like this happens to me, I go through moods. I frequently feel one way initially, then tell myself the equivalent of, "Oh, I think it's going to be OK," then at the end of the day my feelings towards the event is a compromise of both. Initially I thought, Fuck, I don't need this shit now, I ain't got no job! That's why I went downtown for! Thirty-four dollars? That's a night at BJ's! Now I can't go to BJ's! How embarrassing. ...
Later, though, I calmed down. The fine is only $34, which is pretty damn low. I already have an asset level below the threshold needed to apply for welfare health insurance, but I don't think you can ever be too careful. I didn't see any cop cars patrolling the area, and I saw the meter expire both after I pulled into the spot and when I needed to put more quarters in. Most of all, had I bit the bullet and decided to park in a lot or a ramp, I still would've been turned away at the job fair, so I still would've thought the three or twelve dollars I spent was a waste and I still would be bitching about depriving myself of a trip to the strip club. Unless I wanted to sit in my cold car listening to my voicemail when I had time to listen to it while hoping no one is honking his horn thinking I was about to leave my spot, it was a calculated risk. What are the chances that the meter maid would go around and catch me as soon as my meter expired? Yes, the fine is a hell of a lot more than what I would've paid for parking. But at the end of the day, I would still be pissed at myself for wasting money. The feeling's the same.
Now, after going through my thesis and antithesis, what's my synthesis? Paying 34 bucks to park fuckin' sucks, dude. And I didn't even get to do what I wanted to do, so today was a complete waste of time. I shouldn't've gone. I shouldn't've even left the house today.
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