Yesterday was one of those days that puts the general notion of “a case of the Mondays” to shame.
Around 8 a.m. I arrived at the BART station (Bay Area's version of the subway) a few minutes from my house to find them doing construction on more than half of the parking lot, and the other half was already full. They hadn't made accommodations for riders to park anywhere else at the station or nearby, so when I asked the project leader, “Where the fuck am I supposed to park, you small-dicked toad fucker?” he replied with, “Try the station in the next town over."
You fucking kidding me, Dick Weasel? How the fuck is that going to help me catch my 8:09 train now that’s it’s 8:02!?!? Fantastic.
Being the resourceful gent I am, I decided to park next to the roped-off area that’s blocking a driveway. It wasn’t a spot, but would serve beautifully as one with the caution tape sealing off the driveway. I ask my new bud, Dick Weasel, about it and he says it’s OK with him, but I would need to run it by the BART officials. So I walked the quarter mile from the lot to the station and found a grumpy-ass woman who was in desperate need of a cigarette and a vibrator. I told Grumpy-ass Woman what I've done, proud of myself on the inside for my resourcefulness, only for her to respond by telling me that I can’t park there because it’s not a numbered stall which prevents me from paying the $1 to the automated machine that accepts tolls.
"Fine," I said. “How ‘bout I pay you $1 and you write me a receipt which I can put in my car to validate my payment? Then the big, bad BART Police won’t give me a ticket." (This is true, by the way. There is such thing as the BART Police. They have their own uniforms and jurisdiction to prove it.)
Grumpy-ass Woman gave me a look that suggested that this wasn't gonna fly. I tried to fight her on it, even suggested a bribe to no avail. I AM GONNA GO MICHAEL DOUGLAS FROM "FALLING DOWN" ON THIS FUCKING BITCH!!!
I then had to return the ¼ mile to my car. At this point my 8:09 train was long gone and I knew I was going to be late for work.
Not wanting to go to another station and experience a similar problem, I looked for parking in town and found a 4-hour spot on a small hill about a half-mile away. I only mention these distances because it’s already 85 degrees and I have dress shoes on. Walking in my dress shoes is liking walking on nails. Nails that have been sitting on red-hot coals. Nails that have been sitting on red-hot coals covered with donkey feces.
I eventually caught a later train that got me to work about a half hour late. Everything was fine and dandy for the time being. Around 9:30 a.m., I made a call to my roommate who now was going to have to take my spare keys and move my car twice back and forth on this street with 4-hour parking.
Luckily, she was only pretty pissed opposed to the “I’m going to rip your dick off when you get home, Fuck Face” response I had expected. This is fantastic. I want to keep my penis, thanks.
Everything's going just great. I had made it to work, my car was being taken care of to avoid a parking ticket and I get to keep my dick. Happy fucking Monday.
But I got a call from the roomie about an hour later, as she’s gone to move my car.
I have a ticket.
"Impossible," I said. I parked at 8:10 and it’s not even 11. I’ll fight this shit if I have to. But no way have I been there four hours. The 4-hour limit didn't start until 7 a.m.
“It’s not a traffic ticket," I'm explained. "It’s a $40 ticket for not curbing your wheels.”
A $40 TICKET FOR NOT CURBING MY FUCKING WHEELS!?!? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT CURBED WHEELS ARE!!! A DUDE ONCE GOT CURBED IN "AMERICAN HISTORY X." AM I SUPPOSED TO PUT MY CAR'S BUMPER ON A CURB AND SMASH IT IN WITH MY FOOT? AND SINCE WHEN IS THAT EVEN A FUCKING LAW?!?! ISN'T THAT LIKE A SUGGESTION?!?! "HEY, CURB YOUR WHEELS TO KEEP YOUR CAR FROM SLIDING DOWN THE HILL. YOUR CAR WILL THANK YOU FOR IT." FOR FUCK'S SAKE, I PUT MY PARKING BRAKE ON! AND WHY WOULD THIS STREET MERIT YOU CURB YOUR FUCKING WHEELS?!?! THIS IS A MIDWEST HILL! I CAN SEE FUCKING IOWA FROM HERE!
I'm going to fight this shit. It'll be my life's work. I'm going to lose. Then I'll get pissed again. AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
If there's any happy ending to this story, it's that I made two new friends yesterday: Dick Weasel and Grumpy-ass Woman. Fuckers.
9 comments:
I tend to agree; you should have fucked her, in the ticket booth, if posible. The scarring heals, but a preferred parking spot is forever.
Once you were late, you should have just taken the loss. She's probably banging Dick Weasel anyway.
I suppose those laws don't consider that almost no one drives stick anymore. If I may suggest a defense, "Y'all got a picture of me not curbing my wheels? No? Then fuck all y'all muthafuckas."
An 8.5 and some MOABs should serve to nicely flatten out the area.
Buy a bike.
i once got a ticket for being parked the wrong way on a one-way street. that made me want to burn down a police station.
Falling Down is a true hidden gem. When they won't give him breakfast because he is a couple minutes late -- who hasn't wanted to do that?
nice piece
sick bb postings
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