BREAKING: The Parking Ticket Your Roommate Just Got "Wasn't Even Their Fault"

In the eternal human quest to find out what it all means, some people turn to the stars or religion to explain why the world works the way it does. When these worldly happenings involve parking violations, the blame seems to fall on "anyone but the person who owns drove and parked the car.” Whether the answer is to ask the tarot, reflect on our karmas, or look within in these moments of usually minor inconvenience, junior Lexi Harbor has some lofty theories of her own.

"So there I was," said Harbor, setting down her hydro flask and keychain lanyard to free her hands to set the scene, "walking down the steps at the Donald L. Tucker Civic Center, freshly post-COVID test, like the upstanding and conscientious citizen I am. I'm taking in the crisp 2 pm air, basking in my altruism, and already contemplating a self-congratulatory Dunkin run as I approach my brand new charcoal Altima, when I see it. A white slip of paper tucked – very condescendingly, if you ask me, dare I say misogynistically – against my windshield. Allegedly, my 'license plate' wasn't 'registered' or whatever. My thing is, like, what if I was just about to do it? Like, they don't even know if I was just about to do it. Like I said, it's a brand new Altima. I just feel like it's not really my fault and I should've at least gotten a warning, and TBH I feel like this says more about them – them being FSU Transportation & Parking Services– than it does about me."

"It's not even new," said Ashley Garcia, Lexi's roommate, eyeing her surroundings for any eavesdroppers. "The car. Her Altima – it's not even new. I mean, like, it's kind of new. New as in like, 'got it in June' kind of new, which is pretty new in the grand scheme of events that have transpired since the dinosaurs went extinct. But nowhere near 'fall semester' new. She's like this with everything. It's always, "oh, I didn't forget to do the dishes, I was actually just about to do them" and "oh...." Well, it's mostly just that. I'm basically just mad about the dishes. The chore chart clearly says it's her turn to do them but– anyway. I don't know how many times I can hear a new rendition of the tragedy of the $30 parking ticket. People are dying. And the sink is full."

$30 could be so many things – a solid two or three thrifted fits, nearly a tank of gas, 6 entire Little Caesars pizzas. One single parking ticket strips away all the energy put into the 3 strenuous hours of helping vegans find the blueberry lavender almond milk on your last Trader Joe’s shift. So many possibilities crushed by a single slip of paper. Perhaps the true higher power is that of the FSU Transportation & Parking Services. May we all pray for white spaces in our future. Amen.