Ah, the things one learns when one lives in Chicago.
Unlike Colorado, Illinois does not have a 30-day grace period for vehicle registration.
Alas, I woke Monday morning to a perfectly placed parking ticket bearing that oh-so-familiar orange coloring. My windshield and those things are well acquainted.
Funny thing, though: I had parked legally.
Pssh, idiots, I thought. Then I looked at the date of registration. 3/10.
It’s now 4.
Shit.
It had totally slipped my mind. So the past few days have been a blur of frantic attempts to get an emissions test (finally accomplished this afternoon), faxing papers and registration, googling the exact statute for Colorado that gives me extra time, etc. etc.
And so, I have been hiding Simon from the police.
Hiding in plain sight.
That car cover that I bought so long ago, which has been languishing in the closet, was pulled out and put on. He looks ridiculous. He’s the only car on the block that is buried under a white (now dirty brown-white) sheet. But, hedging my bet that I’m legally bound to Colorado law and not Illinois, I’ve managed to escape ticketing by assuming that the police are too lazy to pull back the sheet in order to look at the license plate. And thus far, I’ve been correct. Since Monday, I’ve remained ticketless and Simon has managed to be covered through the first hail of the spring.
Ha, take that Chicago.

I’m fighting the first ticket based on the registration laws but also based on the fact that no circle was filled in about why the ticket was being issued. Stay tuned for updates on that ordeal.