Saturday, October 13, 2007
I Don't Like You - So There
I have never met a nice parking ticket person.
If you are one (a nice one) or know of one, let me know. It might change my jaundiced view of these people.
Yes, I parked illegally while helping my sister move yesterday. I blocked her driveway. There was no where else to park near her house. She wasn’t going anywhere and I had stuff to unload from my car.
When the parking enforcement officer (what an impressive title…) was spotted, I ran outside.
“Excuse me! Please! Hey! Please – I can explain….”
We were just a few feet apart. (Okay, metres. I’m a good Canadian.) She never even turned her head at the sound of my voice. And there was no one else in the vicinity I could have been (politely) shouting to.
And why did she not turn around to acknowledge my cries? Too damn busy keying the pertinent info into her Crackberry/Blackberry Wannabe Parking Ticket machine.
While I explained, she just stared – impassively. Not even a teeny tiny hint of compassion in her expression.
She finally spoke. “The ticket is printing out.”
Well, that shut me up. I got the message. I stared/glared back.
Of course it was printing out - Ms. Busy Fingers!
I wish I’d had the nerve to swear at her. The words heartless bitch come to mind. (Can you get arrested for swearing at a parking official? Can you get another ticket for being pissed off and showing it?)
She was a glum and miserable looking sort – one of those, “No exception to the rules, I’m just doing my job, I do not have a heart,” kind of folk.
So be it. I’m out thirty bucks. But I do have a heart.
And, hey, by the way, lady, you do NOT look cool in your uniform.
Yes, I am still mad. And bitter. And childish.
(The above is a picture of my very own ticket. I erased (poorly) the identifying info – both hers and mine – because $30.00 bucks is enough. I don’t want The Ontario Court of Justice or The City of Toronto on my *ss too.)