In other words, I just went to the university parking office.
It's easy to tell that something is not quite right when you go in. The rest of Atlanta is balmy and beautiful, but the parking office is 90 degrees and humid. Time outside passes normally, but within the parking office it slows to a crawl. Simple tasks such as printing out a receipt take ten minutes at least. And the whole time you're sweating.
It wasn't total agony, though. I've actually made it far enough on the waiting list that perhaps by the end of the year I'll no longer have to park in a deck two miles from campus. But I'm sure you'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath.