Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat, because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place.
Everywhere he went there was either double yellow lines at the side of the road, or where you could park those spaces were all taken.
Looking up to heaven he said, “Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!”
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, “Never mind, I found one.”