Parking Woes and Stupid Sunglasses Guy

So after about a month’s hiatus, I ventured back on to the rails to commute to work on Tuesday. I had been sick for a good part of the last month, and still am, but since I hadn’t used the rails, I had built up quite an arsenal of the metrocheck things, to the point where I could get a monthly ticket for free. Free is good, so I thought, what the hell.

What the fuck would have been more like it.

The commute itself really wasn’t all that bad I don’t guess. Save for the dude on the MARC ride home who was the type we’ve discussed here before, wearing dark sunglasses on the train when we haven’t seen the sun here in several days. If it was anymore gray outside, it would have looked like, well, I don’t know, something that looks very gray.

But anyway, he spent most of his time staring at the girl (she was maybe 23) in the seat across the aisle from us – who, while very pretty and not particularly overdressed, probably didn’t deserve to be mentally stripped by sunglasses boy. He was also one of these super annoying people who carry on way too much stuff for a commuter train. Part of his stuff went up into the little compartment above the seats, which is usually about big enough for a wallet and small raincoat. But he kept a notebook, a radio, a bottle of water, a cup of coffee, and his umbrella in his lap. Seriously, either dude had way too much lap or way too much stuff.

When the train came to my stop, this also created a problem for sunglasses dude, because he then had to move all this stuff to try and get out of the way so that I could exit. And he didn’t even bother getting up out of his seat, which A) would have made it easier for me to get out, and B) got him closer to the girl of his dreams. He was just all around an inconsiderate little bastard. But that’s pretty much normal service when it comes to public transportation, I guess.

More fun awaited when I left the BWI rail station. The trick at BWI is that they have two parking garages, and for common folk, it costs $9 a day to park. That’s kind of exorbitant but whatever. Supposedly, however, if you are a monthly ticket passenger on MARC, this fee doesn’t apply.

Well, that’s true except for me, apparently.

Because when I got to the gate and showed the dude my ticket, he said, “That won’t do you no good here.” Now, bless this guy’s heart … he’s probably never held another job in his life. He seriously looked like he’s been manning this parking lot booth for a long time. I mean, he probably watched his Colts beat the Giants in the ’58 Championship Game right from that very booth. But his rationale was that I didn’t have the special ticket that you have to get “mailed from Florida,” and that he could give me an application. Which, of course, does me no good unless I want to then turn around and spend all the money I saved by saving up the metrochecks to then send it to some clandestine place in Florida that apparently has the parking lot racket all squared away. Nevermind that I had a monthly ticket, too, I guess I didn’t have the “right kind” of monthly ticket. The dude’s last words (before I left, I didn’t kill him) were, “Yeah, there’s been a lot of misunderstanding about this whole deal.” I told him it was because the deal was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard, and I drove off.

So, now I get to fight with the folks I bought my ticket from because as far as I’m concerned, that rail ticket is useless, since I have no intention of paying $9 to park every day when I can drive to work and fight the same level of crazy people for parking places for free.

Maybe I need to start a Parking Wars blog.