But I never had a chance. Within seconds, the vigilant meter maid was on me. I was about thirty feet away, setting down a cooler, so I sprinted back to the car.
"Sorry, man. I was just unloading this stuff for a birthday," I told him, panting.
"Does it say loading?" he responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm, a sneer gripping his fat, round face.
Wow. I understand that I may have violated ordinance 54 -482 C, but was the attitude really necessary? I know that meter maids catch a lot of shit, but seriously, wow.
"So, you're gonna give me a ticket?"
"Yep." There went $50.
I didn't respond. I just turned around and walked away. My kids were watching, and I didn't want to be one of those guys who shows up on that A&E show Parking Wars.
I was mad. Not so much at the ticket itself, but at the man himself. Why the attitude? And I imagined the things I should have said to that asshat.
Well, I'd get my chance. Because two and a half hours later, I did the same thing. This time, I was unloading ice and the birthday cake when the officer again appeared. I imagine he was sitting somewhere nearby, masturbating and holding a pair of binocs. I must have made his day.
When he sped up in his little jeep, he was shaking his head and wagging his finger. Another $50 bucks into the city's coffers. The guy loves his job, and I think he took it personally. This particular meter maid, I am guessing, got beat up a lot in grade school.So, what should I have said? How should I have answered his question: "Does it say loading?"
Here are five things I thought of later.
1) I didn't know they let parolees work as meter maids.
2) The only load is the load of shit in your head. (Kind of lame.)
3) Save your breath. You'll need it to blow up your date.
4) I'd tell you to shove it up your ass, but your head is taking up all the space.
5) No, it says "Dipshit Parking Only," and you're mad because I took your spot.
