I am helping my oldest daughter move into a new apartment in Boston. I drove up with a carful of stuff, arrived at 10pm very tired, noted the "Back Bay Residence Permit" sign, decided to risk the ticket and move the car after the Verizon guy arrived at 9am to install fios. 10pm to 9am, not typically prime ticketing time.
I opened the door to the Verizon guy at 9am and where was my car?! On the tow truck, headed down the street.
Apparently, there are private tow companies that roam the streets and can take your car to their private lots. You have to wait a bit to make sure the car has been processed, figure out which private company has your car, figure out where their lot is, and go fetch it. This was all pretty difficult to figure out, because there is zero cell coverage in my daughter's basement apartment, the wifi didn't work, and my phone protested by glitching every time I went out in to the alley behind her building to try to catch a signal.
In the taxi on the way to the lot, I had my head down trying to chat with the Verizon bot (because the Verizon guy left assuring me that it would be working in 15-30 minutes and that was not true). When the taxi stopped, the driver said are you sure this is the place? I looked up and it was an industrial wasteland, drug addicts scattered around (I had never seen anyone shooting up in their shin before, that was new), with a shack that had the name of the tow company. I paid the fine and the lady in the shack said wait over there, the lot guy will come take you to your car. I waited, head down typing to the Verizon bot, and the lot guy came over and asked to see my form, which I handed to him. He started walking and I followed, and I kept following a long, long way. Then we started crossing a busy street and he said watch out, they think we are all drug addicts. We? I thought, and looked up at him more closely. He was: quite young, super skinny, long sleeves wool hat and long pants on a very warm day, bloodshot eyes, not many teeth. I thought: did I just blindly follow a drug addict through an industrial wasteland? We turned down a long deserted alley. Where is my car? I squeaked. He pointed to the end of the long deserted alley, and yes indeed, I did see my car. I started praying: please let me be safe, please do not let me treat them man as a criminal if he is doing legitimate work for the tow company, please let this be OK. And it was! I got my car and he turned around to take the long walk back to the shed. I did not offer him a ride, which I thought was defensible.
tldr do not park illegally in Boston unless you want a lil adventure.