I've gotta hand it to Toronto Parking Enforcement, I really do.
I fully admit I didn't bother to put money in the pay-and-display machine — the only coins I had on me were a handful of pennies, and I didn't even think to use my debit or credit card in the fancy-ass solar-powered machine — but I couldnt' have been in that bakery for more than two minutes.
The guy must've been waiting in the bushes. On his bicycle.
When I came back, he had pedaled away about five metres from my car, and sure enough, underneath my wiper was lodged The HiFive's* first parking ticket. Thirty bones.
Two minutes, tops.
I should've shaken that guy's hand instead of bludgeoning him to death with my tire-iron in a fit of rage.
* I have now decided that my car's nickname will be The HiFive. This car's name must be spoken with a Borat-like accent which, upon a few seconds' relfection, is quite impossible to replicate in print. Wait a sec... "A-hei Feeiiivvvh!"? Does that look/mentally-sound right? Aw, c'mon, you know what I mean. And if you don't, watch this trailer.