The Car I Drive!

Somehow I seem to attract the attention of speed cameras by driving too fast and traffic wardens by parking in a contraventious ( new word?) way.

My second from latest contravention was parking in a loading bay to 'unload' my daughter for her keyboard lesson. The irritating little SMART car with the camera ( SPY!) provided glorious evidence of that.

My latest misdemenour was failing to renew the parking permit that allows me to park at least 50 miles away from my house in the evening and only outside my house if I am ill or working from home, when no one else wants to park there anyway.

This really sticks in my throat - I don't benefit from the £13 a year it costs me, ( £17 for a second vehicle, £20 for a third etc) even though the man at the LBH office assures me that if we didn't have Resident Parking in my street, people would indeed, flock from miles around to park there and take the convinient 15 minute walk into the town to buy all the stuff they need and stagger back - I DON'T THINK SO. Even I drive into the town sometimes!

However the oversight - it ran out on April 1st, IRONIC - has cost me £50 and to my shame made me say a swear word.

So I am going to wait til the last minute to pay it, but I then had to make the trip to the horrible LBH office to renew my Residents Parking Permit. It is dire to visit and must be even more awful to work there.

They have done a good job at making it seem like an inviting place, but I'm guessing that most of the folks that visit there have problems and attitudes that I have no idea of and so the people behind the desks have learned to treat everyone with suspicion and ...yeah contempt!

You have to take a little ticket and go and sit in a holding bay until they call your number - I say 'they', it's a computer really and quite clever, but again lulls you into a false sence of security. You think that all the people there will address you in the same sing song welcoming way - this is a lie!

And so, you wait, listening to all the various desks that people might be invited to i.e

Ticket number 43 please go to desk 3
Ticket number 679 please go to window 19
Ticket number 3248( seriously) please go to desk 12
Ticket number 2 ( obvioulsy a new department) please go shopping you are in the wrong place etc
Each announcement causes all the 'ticket numbers' to sit up expectantly, only to sink back into the waiting stupor when it's not you. I tried to catch the eye of a fellow 'waiter' but it seemed everyone had lost the will to live, added to by the fact that the computer for printing to new permits ( hence the price increase from £10) had broken.

So anyway, eventually I arrived at 'The Window' presenting my documents and last years permit only to be advised that everything is not in order and I need a letter from the SA proving that the car I drive is indeed the car I drive. I point out that last years permit has the same registration number on it and that they took a copy of a letter last year, but NO. I even still have last years letter in my filofax and uncrease it before their very eyes, but NO. I need a new letter.
I am storming out of the office when a really lovely lady who must be new there asks me if I am OK. I am nearly crying, as this adventure has taken me a hour already, but bravely explain the problem. She, who must be an angel, suggests phoning the SA lease company and asking them to fax a letter. I refrain from telling her that I love her and with hope in my heart, make the call.

I speak to a guy , quite clearly over worked and underpaid, who advises me that YES that can do that, but he is alone in the office, the phone keeps ringing and he can only type with two fingers. I nearly laugh at this point,but play my best telephone flirting card, suggesting that it would be so helpful if he could do it asap as I am about to get another ticket and be returned to the holding bay. His response,
'Did I tell you I am on my own here today?'

OK, so I return and my number is called again about 5 mins later - I appraoch the window where the guy I saw only 20 mins ago max looks at me as if he has never seen me before in his life, and I repeat my story, advising him that a letter is being faxed and suggesting that he might add that to his list of helpful things to say to people in a similar situation to me ( not really, but would have loved to!)
He returns from the fax machine with the awful news that there is no letter. I suggest making a call and he asks if I can do it away from the window as he can't sit there doing nothing, plus the phones mess with the system - that's BROKEN anyway!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mr Overworked says he will do it as soon as he can and I thank him profusely, retuning the to holding bay WITHOUT taking another ticket because I have been advised that I will be 'called over' when the letter arrives....................which it does......................eventually.

My 'call' is a cheery wave! and I respond with a cheery skip over to the cheery window, where the man and I are now best mates, because all is in order and the machine is fixed - hurrah!
I have a rant about permits generally and he rattles off his script. I notice that my permit has a shiney hologram and suggest that the £3 price increase really is making a difference already.

His repsonse?
'Yes, it certainly is!'

I am going to get my permit by post next time, put a reminder in my diary and NEVER go to that place again EVER.