No parking for Wayne

Just after sunrise two months ago work outside my window awakened me. Nothing unusual.

When I got to my car a few hours later it had a ticket on it. Huh? I’d parked there for almost five years without a problem.

Sure enough, there was a shiny “no parking” sign beside the rear fender. The ticket had been written at 8:30 a.m. Must have been a team effort.

Friends were amused. “April Fool!” they said, as if the city didn’t have anything better to do on April 1 than to play a prank on me.

When I parked last night I followed my new ritual: I checked to make sure the entire car was on the legal side of the sign.

The sign’s gone.

I just hope it doesn’t reappear before I get up tomorrow. This could get expensive.

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