Parking Pass

Not the Entrance, well, for parking passes anyway.

Is it wrong to feel weird walking into the Police Station?  I know I haven't done anything wrong, but it weirds me out a bit.  Maybe it's some latent concern about our justice system and the people who are supposed to protect us.  I felt the same way when I had jury duty late last year.  Anyway, I digress.

Parking passes.  They're an evil, evil part of living in a city.  Parking laws are possibly a little more complicated than taxes, and there's no way you ever get money back from the process.  Since my new apartment was built before 1970, has 3 units, and is 3 stories tall, but has a grand total of zero parking spots, I'm allowed to get a day parking pass, and a night parking pass.  This allows me to park in non-paying spots (no meters) and never have to move my car, which is actually a decent parking perk in the city. Now, how to get one

Ah yes, back to the Police Station.  The station for my district is west of town, close to Marquette University.  It's a giant complex of offices, courtrooms, storage, and probably criminals.  The corridors are labyrinthine, and it's really poorly labeled once you get inside.  The main facade of the building is the officer entrance, which I learned as the cops told me I couldn't go in that door.  You have to walk half way around the building to a side street.  Ok.  After walking up a set of stairs to what I thought was the second floor, you go through the obligatory post 9/11 metal detector.  I quickly realize that this is not the second floor, but the 1st, somehow.  I find a stairwell, go up one flight, and see a line of people waiting in front of a window that says 'Parking Fines and Permits'.  I get in line and ask one of the people if this was the correct line.  He assures me it is.  After waiting 20 minutes and getting to the front of the line, I can assure you he was wrong.  I wanted 212, not 202.  Oh.  Walking to the complete opposite of the hall I find 209, 210, and 213.  212 was conveniently not labeled.  It was the door next to the stairwell I came up.  A stranger thankfully told me where to go and we had a decent conversation about the day parking pass; she was hoping to get one, but was told she was ineligible.  After finding the desk, the clerk was decently nice for working in a city office, and I was quickly on my way with parking passes in hand.  They're now on my car, and I've yet to get a ticket.  I'm sure I'll get one eventually, and in that case I'll be prepared.  Room 202, I'll be seeing you.