Dear Milwaukee Parking Department,

It’s over.

Perhaps such a public breakup is inappropriate, but I know of no other way to contact you, since you remain an elusive ticket-giver.

This one-sided relationship is certainly not fair to me, but it can’t be fair to you either, since you seem to be working so hard at finding my parking flaws. And for what – my money? I really do not have enough to be in a relationship with a gold digger.

You knew going into this that I’m just a college student.  My parents own the (sweet) minivan I park on your street. You knew I already pay a hefty sum to attend Marquette, and as such I am tempted to skimp on their outrageous parking prices. So you wooed me with your sweet promises of inexpensive street parking.

But I feel taken advantage of. You sucked me into your web of confusing rules and signs with one low price — I thought you were worth it. But now, I know you were wrong for me. My wallet told me yes, even though all of the street signs told me no.

You weren’t clear enough with me. You didn’t tell me parking more than a foot away from the curb was reason for ticketing. I naively thought it was just reason for Woody Allen to tease Diane Keaton in “Annie Hall.”

You didn’t tell me not having the sticker you gave me properly displayed was reason for towing. I thought you would like the creativity of my window decorating.

You didn’t tell me you were uncomfortable with me parking too close to a driveway, on the even side of the street on an odd night or not in the circle part of a cul-de-sac. I just thought you would be happy I found any spot, with all those other cars around.

No matter how hard I tried, your rules and regulations were too much for my free-spirited heart and limited skill in parallel parking to handle.

My friends warned me you were needy. You insisted I call every night to check in.

But then I called too much (three nights in a row is too much? Really?). Your operator said your streets couldn’t see the bottoms of my parked wheels again unless I fully committed to a four month parking pass with you. Feeling pressured and rushed, I obliged – but I can see now that was a mistake.

Every week, I whined to my roommates about how much attention you required. You always made me come to you — that routine walk of shame from our spot on 16th Street back to my apartment was embarrassing and lonely. Every week,after coming home from moving my car to exactly where you wanted it to be. I would say, “No more! Tomorrow I will break this off and start seeing Marquette Parking Services more often.” But then Saturday night would roll around.

God, you are so cool on Saturday nights. And on holidays — letting me park wherever I want for however long I want. I will miss those hours with you. But I have spent too many nights wishing our relationship was that perfect every day.

Still, it’s not all you — it’s me. I am just not ready for this intense dedication to anyone, let alone an entire fleet of yellow-vested scowling people sitting on the wrong side of white Jeep Wranglers. I should have known you’re just not my type.

Foolishly, though, I thought we could give each other something — for you, my parking fees; for me, convenience. We should have just seen it for what it is. We were using one another. And I was paying way too much to be ticketed so often and towed that one time. You promised me it would never happen again, but that is just not a chance I am willing to take with you.

I think you should tow other people.

Best,
Kelly White