Monday, April 11, 2011
Like many of my fellow BYU Cougars, I have an unhealthy hatred of BYU parking. Those little green envelopes (except now they don't even use the envelopes) are the fastest way to ruin a perfectly fine day.
I have found several ways to get out of paying tickets.
For the first few (or five) tickets I procrastinated paying them and BYU would just send the bill to my brother (his record was on file for the family car). He assumed they were just something he spaced a while back so he would pay them (thanks Joe).
Then for the bajillion scooter tickets (if the faculty motorcycle lot is empty, I do NOT feel bad parking there) I went and played dumb to the ticket office. "Oh I need a sticker for a scooter? Really? Even in that lot? Ok, I'm so sorry...." The guy and I struck a deal that he would take off all of them except for one, I happily accepted his offer. He did this because he said I didn't have any parking tickets from previous semesters (since they had all gone to Joe).
By this time I was close to the "if you get one more parking ticket you will not be allowed to drive on campus" limit so I played it safe for a year.
Then I got lazy again. By this point I was driving a car registered in my name, so the tickets really did go on my record. I still didn't pay them. I think I thought ignoring it for long enough would make them go away (I have a warped sense of reality).
Luckily, the other day get a call from my Dad. "I drove your car to the law library today and got a ticket. But I'm going to pay it right now so they don't keep you from graduating."
"Unpaid tickets will keep me from graduating?" I asked.
"Oh yeah--how else do you think they enforce everything? They hold something you want."
"Oh. Um, well, I have a bunch."
"What!! Jenny! We live in a bureaucratic world. You have to deal with these things! They will HOLD YOUR DIPLOMA."
"Oh." I sat considering if I should ask if he could pay for all of them while he was there, but decided that was going too far. I'm already overstaying my welcome in my parents house. "I'll take care of them this week."
A few minutes later when he picked me up he told me he had paid for all of them. He wouldn't tell me the total. I can now graduate.*
I will no longer complain when I get in my car and the conservative talk radio is blaring and the hand brake is pulled so tight I have to use two hands to release it. Thanks Dad.
*As long as I pass all of my classes...
...and write that Global and Cultural Awareness Paper...
...and pay all the fines that go along with not turning in the piece of paper that says you live with your parents...
...and refrain from getting any more tickets...