Kermit,Kermit, where is my permit?

If you have a handicapped parking permit and you forget to hang it in the window when you exit your car, you could find yourself up the creek without a paddle. Or at least it might feel that way. And so I have written myself a little ditty and I am searching for a little green frog to hang in my window as my memory jogger, because I don’t want to mess with the police again.

You see, before I was citationed, I parked my car in the main library parking lot, the library where I volunteer for two to three hours every Thursday, loaded with a full bag of books from my favorite candy store. In my haste to improve my tardiness record, I move quickly, at dinosaur’s pace, from the car to the building and yes, due to my inability to multitask, I forget to hang my permit. Along comes the Gendarme -maybe it’s a slow day and there aren’t many violators – and whoops, there’s a car in a handicapped space and there’s no permit hanging against the windshield.

So I finish my stint in the library and there’s something tucked against the windshield and if it were an ad, all the cars would have one but no, just me, and it’s a citation. $255 fine and my heart jumps out of my chest. I know I can dispute it, but it’s such a process. In addition, whoever issued the citation, accused me of parking my car in lot 10 at City Hall and not in the parking lot at the public library.

Everything has to be copied and sent to the DMV as proof of having a permit. First you phone and protest the incorrectness of the parking lot, and you are not accused of nitpicking in so many words, but that’s the general idea. After all, an overloaded police department can’t be expected to get everything right. So you send a copy of everything requested and you better get everything right – and then you wait. You call for 4 weeks and you’re told it’s under review. What are they reviewing? Your stupidity or your inability to multitask? Also, you are only allowed to have this memory lapse once a year, so you’d better never again forget to hang your permit in the window.

At last the letter comes. I have been forgiven and the citation Is rescinded. I put the permit on the passenger seat because tucking it into the glove compartment is too risky. As they say, out of sight out of mind. I drive over to a toy store to find a little frog, small enough not to block my view, and I hang him from my mirror. I name the keeper of my permit, Kermit, and now I just have to hope that I remember why Kermit is hanging from my mirror. And that Kermit rhymes with permit. Oh and that the DMV is not tolerant of memory loss. At least not more than one time a year.

Leave a Reply