I Feel Like Such a Spoon

I’m borrowing this phrase from our friend, JWR, who used to say it whenever he was feeling particularly sheepish about having done something silly. I know for a fact that I’ve done silly things before this, but I can’t seem to remember exactly what they were. It’s like there’s a ‘self-destruct’ button within our memory that automatically erases these episodes, without necessarily erasing the lessons learnt.

It’s somewhat similar to how Mother Nature gives us selective amnesia after having children. Sure, I remember labour being excruciatingly painful but I can’t remember the exact sensation of the pain. I also remember how Abang was a real pain in the … I mean, how he was such a “high need” baby that made even going to the toilet an achievement for me. But, 3 years on, somehow it doesn’t seem “that bad”. I guess Mother Nature has to make sure people have more than 1 child! If we remember everything, there’s no way we’d say, “Oh, look dear, such a cute baby. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a baby in the house again?” NOT!

Anyway, back to doing silly things. On Friday afternoon I parked my car in PJ, at a legal, pay-and-display parking lot. It was a great spot, too, very close to my destination. So I hopped across the road, got a parking ticket and promptly displayed it on the dashboard. I even remembered to fold the wing mirrors in. Just before I walked off, I thought to myself, “Hmm, it’s hot today. Maybe I should put up the sunshade.”

It’s funny how my alarm bells were not working that afternoon. If they were, I’m sure it would have gone off, “DING-DING-DING! Doofus alert!”

That’s because when I got back 3 hours later (a full hour before my ticket expired), I found a piece of paper under my wiper. It’s probably a flyer, I thought. But hang on, how come no other car has it?

DOH! It’s a parking compound! But… but … I bought a ticket. I even displayed it. I looked towards the windscreen but didn’t see the parking ticket I had put on the dashboard. Instead, all I saw was the damn sunshade.

Man, did I feel like a complete and utter spoon. Make that a whole cutlery tray when I saw it was a RM100 compound. Cheh. After banging my head against the imaginary wall (which is a lot less painful than a real one), I decided to try my luck at MBPJ. It was already 4:35pm so I wasn’t too hopeful that the counters would still be open, but since I was in the area I tried my luck.

The kaunter rayuan was still open – hooray – so I went and explained my case to the officer as best I could, with a touch of grovelling added to it.

Then she said, “Oh, so the enforcement officer couldn’t see the ticket. Ok, then you’ll just have to pay RM20.”

“Eh? Can’t you just cancel it? I did have a valid ticket,” I tried again.

She then peered over to the next counter and said, “Oh, sorry, we’re out of the forms.”

We stared blankly at each other.

Not very helpful, I thought. But then, since I was the grovel-er, not the grovel-ee, I couldn’t really give her any attitude. So I asked her what I should do next and she said to come back on Monday, anytime between 8am and 5pm.

I guess I’ll be there.