Meter mate

It's been years and years since I had a parking ticket. Until this year, that is. A few weeks ago, I forgot to display my parking permit when I took Dan and Abi to the cinema and we returned to the car to find the dreaded yellow sticker on the windscreen. (I wrote to the council who kindly waived the charge, possibly out of sympathy for my forgetfulness!)

Then, this week, I had a meeting in Lancaster, which over ran slightly. I hurried back to my car and as I crossed into the backstreets, I could see all the way along to the car park. And I could see a man in a hi-viz jacket, standing right by my car. I upped my hurrying from a fast walk to a middle-aged jog, arriving at the car as the man appeared to be finishing something on his machine. "Am I too late?" I asked, and he looked up and smiled. "No."

And then, AGAIN, today, in Lancaster, AGAIN, exactly the same thing happened, albeit in a different parking spot. "Am I too late?" This time the traffic warden didn't look up or smile, he just packed away his machine and moved on. That's him on the right. Perhaps he's shy so I'll thank him again from here to avoid any awkwardness :-)