Sticking It To “The Man” Through Charity
I don't have a very good relationship with the county parking authority which patrols the local streets near my office. Thus far I figure I've contributed at least two bills to the county coffers. Each time I've missed the iron fisted Nazi-like ticket writer by a matter of minutes.
The Parking Nazis start writing tickets promptly at 0800. They arrive in their Ford F-150 trucks and prowl the streets like wolves circling wounded prey. Sooner or later a meter will start blinking red and they'll swoop in for the kill. There is no such thing as free parking! Got expired tags? That'll cost you more than the parking ticket.
Needless to say, I don't drive into work unless I have to. Yesterday was one of those days.
I've learned my lesson that it's better to shove an extra buck in the meter rather than get an all day pass to the tune of 35 clams. As I walked out to my car, I noticed that the meter on the car parked behind me had just started to blink its crimson light. I don't know how the Parking Nazis are alerted to an expired meter. Perhaps it's a wireless signal sent from the meter to a computer in their oversized pickup truck. Maybe they sense a tremor in the force. Whatever the method, a Parking Nazi truck pulled up behind the expired meter – the trap had been set.
Parking tickets suck. Parking tickets found after a long day at the office suck rocks. I know. I've gotten more than my fair share. Not only does the county get the cash shelled into the meter, it also gets another 35 clams because the car owner got held up.
I looked at the Parking Nazi and smiled. Then I fished in my pants pocket and found two quarters. I popped them in the meter and bestowed upon the car owner another sixty minutes of reprieve from the cash sucking Parking Nazis.
And that, dear reader, is how you "Stick It To The Man" through charity.
Here endeth the lesson.