A friend visiting from the Sunshine Coast had stayed at my place the previous night and after she drove off in the morning, I went for a short jog to pick up my car from where it was parked in a nearby suburb.  All the parking in my street is for a maximum of a few hours at a time, so the day before I’d moved my car from my undercover car parking spot so that she could park her car there overnight.  Meanwhile my car would be safe and sound in a leafy street 15 minutes jog away. 

When I arrived at my car, I noticed a small piece of paper caught under the windscreen wipers.  I put the piece of paper in my pocket to place in the recycling bin when I arrived home.  When I took the paper out again, I noticed it was a parking infringement notice for $50.  I looked at the date and noticed it was today’s date.  How strange.  Given that I’d checked very carefully to make sure there were no parking meters and no signs saying I couldn’t park in the street, the ticket obviously couldn’t be mine.  It must have blown off someone else’s car some distance away and landed on my windscreen.  The only thing contradicting this theory was the fact that my vehicle registration number was printed on the ticket.        

I was certain a quick call to Brisbane City Council would clear things up immediately.  After all, this was going to be a good day.   

The first thing I discovered was that a call to Brisbane City Council is never quick.  After pushing various buttons and wading through various unconcerned automated voices (which nonetheless professed to be concerned) I was finally greeted by the cheerful Mark.  I explained that an error had occurred in the issuing of a parking infringement notice. 

“No, there’s been no error.  You were in a 2 hour parking zone,” he said with the same level of concern as the automated voices.

“But there were no signs anywhere in the street saying it was a 2 hour parking zone.”  I knew I was right.

“The suburb of West End, where you parked your vehicle, is classified as a 2 hour parking zone unless otherwise stated.”

“But how am I supposed to know that?  At no time when I sat for my driver’s licence was I told I’d need mind-reading skills.”

“Surely you would have noticed the signs as you drove into the suburb, stating that West End was a 2 hour parking zone.”

“Surely if I’d noticed I wouldn’t have parked there for more than 2 hours.”

“Then it’s unfortunate you didn’t notice.”

A long pause ensued.

“Yes, it’s very unfortunate that I didn’t notice.  Thank you for letting me know.  I’ll certainly never park there again.  Given my remorse for breaking a rule I was unaware of, I’d like to ask that the penalty be waived.”

“I am in no position to make any decisions about your case.  If you want to take this further I suggest you write to the Appeals Review Officer.  The address is on the back of the infringement notice.”

So that’s exactly what I did. 

When I finished my A4 page-long letter outlining why my penalty should be waived, a rush of goodwill came over me and I added a Merry Christmas wish for all at Brisbane City Council.  As I was about to put the letter in an envelope, another rush of something came over me and I took out a Christmas card so that I could write a longer message of warmth to all at Brisbane City Council.  I stapled the letter to the card and immediately ran to the nearest post box. 

As I started walking home, I got the giggles.  I began to imagine what the person opening the card and letter would be thinking and started laughing even more.  Several passers by looked at me as though I were mad.  I laughed even harder at the thought of explaining to them why I was laughing and by the time I arrived home I’d completely lost it.  I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much. 

I’d set out to dispute the injustice of a situation and to try and avoid paying a $50 fine I didn’t think I deserved.  I also did it because I’d decided at the start of the day it was going to be a good day.  That meant I was going to be proactive about making it good – both consciously and subconsciously.

I don’t care any more if I end up having to pay the fine or not.  The laugh was worth it.  And it was a cheap price to pay to be reminded of the power of intention.   

What’s your intention for 2010?