Parking ticket unleashes fighting spirit

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” I shouted from the crosswalk across the street from the grim-faced man in the light-blue uniform and helmet who was looking intently at my parked car.

I bolted to the “meter maid” as he proceeded to write a parking ticket for my recently expired stall.

“I was trying to call you. I was right there,” I explained.

“I heard you. But what do you want me to do?” the traffic warden said.

I implored him to have compassion. He said he was just doing his job. And besides, there were people watching so he couldn’t just let it go.

“What people?” I asked, looking around the empty sidewalk. He pointed to a guy about a block away.

I realize I was in the wrong for failing to get to the meter on time in the overcrowded streets of Kakaako, which is becoming more congested as thousands of condo units are filled.

But parking is my pet peeve. (The Chinese in me despises having to pay for parking — let alone a parking ticket — especially when it used to be free.)

“I know you’re just doing your job, but can’t you just let it go this time?”

The zealous enforcer was not going to let a middle-age woman talk him out of signing that dreaded yellow slip.

“Plead your case to the judge,” he said.

I couldn’t believe this by-the-book parking officer showed me no mercy. If he were a cop, he would have let it slide, I thought to myself.

“You’re just so used to getting your way,” my cousin told me as I complained about the $35 citation.

For the most part, I’ve always been able to talk my way out of things, especially in circumstances when there is room for negotiation.

I’ve gotten out of tickets and late fees, and have been pardoned from breaking other rules due to extenuating circumstances. My motto: “There is always an exception to the rule.”

I revel in debating and winning my case, especially if I feel there is an injustice. It gives me a sense of satisfaction and pride when I can right a wrong, enlighten someone to a different perspective, perhaps change their mindset. But my fighting spirit isn’t always compatible with parenting.

After seeing me in action, my motormouth kids have no problem challenging my authority or objecting when I say no to their requests. Their protesting can drive me absolutely nuts.

“Mom, you always get what you want.”

That is not quite the example I want to leave on impressionable kids. Especially when I am trying to teach them to stop whining when they don’t get their way. (There’s a fine line between griping and fighting for your rights.)

While my fast mouth has gotten me out of unfavorable situations in the past, I want to teach my children to respect authority and accept the consequences of bad behavior.

Unless it involves a parking ticket.

“She Speaks” is a weekly column by women writers of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Reach Kristen Consillio at kconsillio@staradvertiser.com.