Earned myself a parking ticket yesterday. It was completely my fault, which compounded my anguish.
I needed to park in Leamington Spa town centre to take part in a 10km running race. I parked up, fed the meter, but in my haste I didn’t realise that one of my pound coins had gone straight through the machine and been ejected, so when I pressed the button for my permit, I’d effectively bought an hour’s less parking time than I intended.
That left me in a quandary. I wanted to park until 10.30am, but my time limit was now 9.30am. I’d be halfway through my run at the point when I needed to pump more cash into the ticket machine.
I could either drive around an increasingly busy Leamington to try to find a non-restricted space, or take a gamble on it being a Sunday and hope no traffic wardens turned up. So I took the gamble – and lost.