Do you remember my vitriolic letter about my car parking ticket? Well another car parking “incident” occurred yesterday when I may or may not have been illegally parked near to my son’s school.
Now I hastened to add if I was such a person who may or may not been illegally parked it would be because of the very difficult situation of a certain school being in the town centre with insufficient adjacent car parking facilities. Now, if like the good Mrs T, you have to dash off to pick up another child and then dash off to tennis and can’t afford the time to go to a car park further away you have no alternative but to either keep driving around and around in circles (which in my opinion creates even more congestion and risk when there are children running all over the place) or find a discreet and safe place to park.
So yesterday, when I may or may not been illegally parked, suddenly out of the sun strolled a Car Parking Officer. (Mrs T spits on floor and stabs small pin through voodoo doll.) Anyway, there’s a black satchel strapped to his side, his tie is at angle and there’s a particularly mean squint in his eye…
He looks at my number plate and taps firmly on my window.
I gulp and wind down the glass. He looks down at me.There’s a glint of menace in his eye as out of the corner of his mouth he says;
“A good woman always knows her limitations”
I baulk and quickly check in the mirror. He means business. Is my lippy still on? Am I having a good hair day? I take off my sunglasses and put on my sweet innocent look and run my tongue suggestively around my lips.
“Yes, Officer?
He bends down closer to the window and leans in…
“I know what you’re thinking Lady. Has he done enough tickets for the day? Did he make five bookings or six? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kinda lost track myself. But being as this is .44 ticket machine, the most powerful ticket machine in the world and could blow your tax disc right off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well do ya, Lady?”
Hmm. This guy is wacko. He needs taking down a peg or two. And I’m the one to do it; I’ll try the nice option first.
“Nothing wrong with ticketing Officer…as long as the right people get ticketed.”
He steps back and raises an a cynical eyebrow. I undo the top button of my blouse and fan my face as he steps closer again.
“In this world there’s two kinds of people, Lady. Those with loaded ticket machines and those without. You’re without.”
“Really officer? I smile sweetly, steeling myself for a fight. The nice tactic isn’t working. I’ll have to take a different direction.
” You know what Officer? Opinions are like assholes; everyone has one.”
“Listen, Lady!” he yells. “To me you’re nothin’ but dog shit, you understand? And a lot of things can happen to dog shit. It can be scraped up with a shovel off the ground. It can dry up and blow away in the wind. Or it can be stepped on and squashed. So take my advice and be careful where the dog shits!
I lose my temper. The guy is a complete jerk and probably stalks Clint Eastwood. Unfortunately, for him I’ve also watched every Clint movie.
“Look Officer -This stuff isn’t getting to me – the shootings, the knifings, the beatings. Old ladies being bashed in the head for their social security checks. Nah that doesn’t bother me. But you know what does bother me? You know what makes me really sick to my stomach? It’s watching you stuff your face with those tickets! Nobody – I mean nobody puts car parking tickets on a pregnant woman!”
He looks shocked; I know more quotes than he does. I run my hands over my belly and let a tear form in the corner of my eye. He hesitates, a slow look of remorse spreading over his face.
“I have strong feelings about illegal parked cars,” he mumbles. ” If they’re around, I want to be controlling them. But…… this time Lady I’m gonna let you off.
I give him a radiant smile. “Thank you Officer. You know what? You’ve made my day.”
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Yep, so yesterday I got off a parking ticket. The conversation didn’t exactly go quite like that. But well you know me…sometimes my imagination runs rife…
Besides, I like an man in a uniform. Obviously I prefer them with a gun rather than a ticket machine. But hey, where needs must.
Ps – I got off the other car parking ticket too. Ah sweet joy.
Pps – I’m not pregnant. I just have excess baggage.
