Most Expensive Pooh Ever Shat

Not a very pleasant title I know - But I had to tell you about my Thursday evening. And it stared with a shit- never though it could come to this...
Yeah, I am very fortunate to be driving Mum's car until she flogs it. It is a lovely V6 VW Jetta - with dog section, you know for when I get fed up of looking for a husband and succumb to buying a pooch. Black, shiny, nice tires, all the usual stuff a car which one is not paying a penny for should be - sweet. Free.
Knowing how my life tends to pan out I should have known that nowt in life comes for free. Not even for me. My interpretation of having a sweet life is contradictory to most of my mate's perceptions. My life of late has been a bag of crap,and last night as I cruised out of work at 3.15pm, full of the joys of summer, lapping up the 90 degree heat with the sun roof down and my long locks a flowing - making me look like a cross between Tina Turner and Ike's.
Anyway, I got to my street at 4pm and cruised around the block for a parking space. Let me explain the parking situation in my 'hood. Right in front of the door one can park all day with a resident's permit. I have asked about these but am still not sure what I can do to get one, or if indeed if I am eligible for one. Before I get a bollocking from Mike (my roomie)for transcribing incorrect information re this issue - I really don't know how to get a parking pass. All I do know is that if I do decide to park outside the house, I have to move the wheels at least a foot every hour, and cannot park there at all on a Tuesday after midnight, which is street cleaning night. Mind you, none of these obstacles designed to make an already neurotic Yorkshire woman go crazy bonkers with an 8 piece drill and bit set (name the show)seemed to perturb the homeless guy who's been living in his old Chevy for the last few days with only a few joints and a family bucket of KFC to keep him occupied. I know this as I got a good view of him while doing the odd spot of ironing t'other night.
Yeah, so parking is a problem. So after 30 mins or more I decided that if I spent any more time looking for the never appearing spot, there was gonna be some serious valeting going on, not too good on the leather seats, so a dollar in a meter and off I dashed, to the loo.
Ten minutes, ten bloody minutes later I went back to the car, well, I didn't because it had gone. For once I was helped by a bum, the homeless guy who occupies the right hand sided street corner near the house informed me it had been towed. Towed. TOWED.
I had to go and retrieve the vehicle from some car park on 7th. I knew it was gonna be an expensive shit, but my God, $188 for releasing the car. I was not crying at this point as I signed my Visa slip, in fact I was a good girl, courteous to the cashier, even opened a door for the next member of public to be ripped off. No, there were no tears. Until I got to the car, noticed a piece of unfamiliar paper on the windscreen, and opened it to discover a paring ticket, for $60. Twas then that I started to bawl.
Lesson learned.
Go to the loo before you leave work for the day.