Ticket To Ride

Yesterday was an unexpectedly expensive day for The Rock Chick. I woke up to a parking ticket on my car. A $50 freakin’ dollar parking ticket! I forgot to buy my new $40 city sticker. Oops, it’s not called a city sticker here...it’s a village tag.

When I was a teeny tot learning the English language, I lived in the city (Chicago), so I speak “city”. Here in the ‘burbs, they speak “village”. Whatever you call it, it’s still nothing but a decal that violates the beauty of my car and makes my windshield sticky. For that kind of money, at least they could make it more colorful. Perhaps they could add the Happy Bunny making an obscene gesture, too. I don’t know. Just kicking around some ideas.



Cost of two village tags: $80.00
Cost of parking ticket : $50.00

I’m not one to complain about cops. I am married to one after all and before I was a Dispatcher, I was a Community Service Officer. Lord knows I’ve written my share of parking tickets. It just amazes me that they can see my expired village tag on my very dark street in the middle of the night, but they always seem to miss my neighbor Crazy Eddie waving his weenie through his front door in broad daylight. Crazy Eddie’s brother, The One Eyed Jack, (draw your own conclusions) spends most of the day outside in his car violating himself and making his own windshield sticky. Most assuredly not in the village tag way, either. The cruisers seem to drive right by that, too.

I took care of my parking ticket/city sticker/village tag and decided to take the rest of the afternoon off from work. The weather is getting beautiful here and for my husband’s 20th anniversary present from the police department, he chose a bike. (for me!) Actually, he chose an extremely heavy box full of parts that, if put together, would be a bike.

I’m never going to win any “Tim the Toolman” award, but I have put a bike or two together in my day. This one, though, defied all of my attempts at assembly. After two hours and a few band-aids, my bike still looked like this.



I tossed all the pieces in the back of my van and took it to my local bike repair shop. The really pleasant guy who owns the shop was more than happy to assemble my free bike for a mere $80.00.

When I gave him my claim ticket later in the day, he told me the part of the frame where the handlebars attach was dented on the inside, which is why I couldn’t get it together. Yeah, ok, whatever. The good news is, my bike now looks like this.



Much better!

After I treated myself to a ride on my new free $80.00 bike, I decided it was hot and tried to turn on the air conditioner. No such luck. Dead as a doornail. My furnace guy was happy to start a work order ticket and will be here on Friday.

The Rock Chick is feeling a little bit like everyone’s meal ticket. But, that’s ok. She don’t care.