By Angel Amorphosis

If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll know I often explore the ways in which modern systems are designed to grind down dissent, commodify human experience, and turn survival into a series of transactions. But don’t mistake that for defeatism. I don’t believe resistance is futile. I believe it’s necessary.
The problem is, the system doesn’t make resistance easy. It’s designed to exhaust you. To make basic rights something you have to enthusiastically opt into over and over again. Miss a step, and you’re treated as though you’ve forfeited your value.
But this time, I pushed back. And something rare happened:
They backed down.
The Setup: A Charge for Existing
Earlier this summer, I went to Black Sabbath’s final concert in Birmingham. It was a significant personal moment, and I booked an overnight stay at the Holiday Inn Express in Redditch to recover afterward. According to the booking site, parking was included.
When I arrived after midnight, the staff didn’t mention anything about needing to register my car, and I didn’t see any signage that stood out. I parked, slept, and checked out the next morning without a second thought.
A week later, a Parking Charge Notice landed on my doormat. £100, courtesy of ParkingEye.
The First Response: Polite and Hopeful
I emailed the hotel. I explained the situation, gave my booking reference, vehicle registration, and asked for help. To their credit, the hotel replied confirming they had forwarded my concern to ParkingEye. Great, I thought. Misunderstanding sorted.
But ParkingEye had other plans.
The Twist: “We Can’t Cancel It, But…”
In their reply, ParkingEye acknowledged the hotel’s request. They confirmed they had received it. And then, they said they were “unable to cancel the parking charge at this stage.”
Instead, they generously offered to reduce it to £20 — “out of good faith.”
Let me translate:
We know you stayed at the hotel, we know the hotel asked us to cancel the fine, and we know this was likely a miscommunication… but we’re going to try and get some money out of you anyway.
This wasn’t administration. It was exploitation disguised as reasonableness. A manipulative soft threat.
The Pushback: Refusal with Teeth
I didn’t lose my temper. I wrote back with calm clarity:
- I restated that I was a legitimate guest.
- I highlighted the hotel’s confirmation of their cancellation request.
- I pointed out the contradiction in ParkingEye’s own letter.
And, crucially, I mentioned that I’m autistic, and was wearing a sunflower lanyard during check-in. The staff should have made extra effort to ensure nothing was missed. They didn’t. And now I was being penalised.
I wasn’t angry. I was precise.
And that made them blink.
The Outcome: The Concrete Cracked
Within days, ParkingEye emailed me again. This time, they confirmed the charge had been fully cancelled. No payment required. Case closed.
There was no apology. No acknowledgment of inconvenience. No admission that I should never have received the charge in the first place. Just a flat, mechanical statement: the charge has been cancelled.
I suppose I should be satisfied, and on some level, I am. But even in victory, the absence of basic humanity is striking.
Where is the accountability? Where is the recognition that systems like this cause stress, waste time, and disproportionately affect people who are already carrying more than their fair share?
What This Really Means
Most people would have paid the reduced fine. That’s what ParkingEye counts on. Stress, confusion, guilt, and the desire to just make it go away. It’s a business model built on overwhelm.
And for neurodivergent people? This kind of thing can be especially taxing. We’re more likely to internalise the blame, less likely to push back, and more vulnerable to the psychological tricks buried in so-called “civil” letters.
But this time, I didn’t fold. And it worked.
Resistance Isn’t Futile. It’s Necessary.
This doesn’t mean the system isn’t broken. It absolutely is. But moments like this are important. They remind us that refusal isn’t negativity, it’s clarity. It’s drawing a line. It’s proving, even just for a moment, that not everything is hopeless.
Sometimes, even in a world that wants to invoice you for breathing, you can breathe a little fire back.
And they will back down.
