Apparently the City of Boston does not feel the same way. I have gotten more of these than I’d like to admit in the last couple months and, frankly, I’m not happy. The money these cost makes me mad, but what makes me more mad is the ghost-like hands that place them on my windshield. I have wild fantasies of running into a meter maid while she is trying to give me a ticket. I walk up to her and she instantly sees my character, and genuine ignorance of all parking laws, and instantly forgives all wrongs, gets on her knees, and presents me with a free to park anywhere I please sticker which never expires. Boston is a labyrinth of paved cow paths that play by their own rules. These streets are the boss of all who try to park on them and they don’t care what you think. They rain down orange tickets like candy at a parade while you weep standing on their cold-hearted concrete. These streets listen to no man. They change the rules every 5 minutes, every 8th Wednesday, and every time it rains. 
If your mom’s driving the car the rules are different. 
If it is the Holiday Season they give you a break on Saturdays, but it’s only because the streets are too busy getting drunk at their holiday parties on spiked egg nog and bragging about war stories where they gave the same people multiple tickets in one day. 

I’m going to stop trying to own these streets and their parking laws because it’s impossible. They rule with a cold, strong fist of orange fury.