I headed to Mann the Sunday before Fall Break around 3 p.m. to start on my much-procrastinated work. Of course, the parking lot was full, but I refused to park elsewhere and walk any farther than necessary in the rain, so I sat in my car and waited for someone to leave.

I finally saw a car pull out after 10 minutes, but another car beat me to the spot. I spent the next five minutes cursing out the driver, who had been waiting in the parking lot for about 30 seconds. After driving around aimlessly for another few minutes, I saw a “spot” that I had previously missed.

There was just enough room at the top of the parking lot for me to squeeze in next to the line of three cars. I suppose the three cement blocks in front of each parked car could be interpreted to suggest that there were only three spots, but I didn’t see any “no parking” signs, so I congratulated myself on having found a semi-legitimate parking spot.

Four hours later, I emerged from the library ready to take a study break and meet friends for dinner. As I walked to my car, I noticed a white and red ticket on my windshield with a $30 fine for parking somewhere deemed “not a spot.”

My first inclination was to lose the ticket by letting it blow off in the wind, as I have often done with CUPD tickets. The paper was soggy from the rain, however, and I knew it would stick to my car. I grudgingly took the ticket and put in my bag, hoping it was wet enough to disintegrate.

I don’t know why I put so much thought into how to make the physical ticket disappear; I’d parked illegally more than enough to know that #42: Get out of a University parking ticket is one of the easiest tasks on the 161 things list. I’ve heard various rumors — most suggesting that payment is not necessary — about the enforceability of Cornell-issued parking tickets.

Although the University’s transportation website states that “New York State has granted Cornell the right to enforce its parking rules,” the fact that I still have my driver’s license and haven’t paid any of the numerous tickets I’ve received since sophomore year seems to suggest the contrary.

I’ve also heard, from sources of varying reliability, that after six parking tickets in one semester, the Cornell police will tow your car. I can say from experience that this is absolutely not the case in all situations.

By now, my violations may be rivaling Barack Obama’s infamous 17 parking tickets during his time at Harvard Law School. Perhaps if I ever run for public office, I will call Cornell’s transportation department, as Obama did, and pay all of my outstanding fines. (Who am I kidding? By the time you are reading this, my gross overestimation of the readership of this column will probably lead me to pay all of my tickets out of fear that someone who has the ability to take away my driver’s license and / or student in good standing status has read about my lack of respect for the authority of the Cornell Commuter and Parking Service.)

If I do end up clearing my parking ticket balance, I can’t afford to get caught in illegal spots nearly as frequently as I currently do. While I may have been initially disappointed last week with my inability to make my ticket go away, I found a rather convenient use for it later that night.

Upon returning to the library after dinner, I again could not find a parking spot. Someone had even taken my pseudo-spot from earlier in the day. Under normal circumstances, I probably would have made more of an effort to find legal parking and avoid getting two tickets in one day, but I seriously needed to pee.

I managed to maneuver my car into a clearly illegal parallel spot and once again applauded myself for my parking creativity. In a moment of craftiness, I pulled the pieces of my damp parking ticket out of my bag and stuck them back on my windshield. When I came back to my car at the end of the night, I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d successfully managed to save myself the stress of yet another $30 in unpaid fees.