Wednesday, 25 July 2007

Tempting the devil...

The town where I live is a traffic dictatorship. Every road is lined with yellow, and signs order you around telling you when and where you can park; in this bay, but only for an hour, or in this space but only if you pay 70p for the pleasure, even if you only want to stay for a tenth of that time. It is also policed regularly by the Car Gestapo who buzz about riding their hairdryers on wheels and inbetween lulls in the traffic, it's not uncommon to hear a cackle of "Bahaha...I'll get you, my pretty, and your 4X4 too....". They used to hide in alley ways, knowing that the high street will start being filled up with cars as people go to enjoy an evening meal in one of the restaurants; the complacent drivers parking beneath signs that read 'Parking only from 8:30pm - 7am'...but hey, there's only 15 minutes to go...surely they'll be ok? So they sit, loving the fact they've scored a window table in Cafe Rouge when out of the corner of their eye they spy a helmeted little man, drowning in his own blue rain mac, tapping away on a little machine in the palm of his hand. Next to your car. They run out, checking their watch which reads 8:27 screaming 'Oi, yer bastard! It's half past! We're allowed to park now!'. The (Nazi) traffic officer points to his watch. 'Still three minutes to go, sir. You're parked illegally.' And slaps him with a £30 fine.

Today I just wanted to pop to the card shop, but the little fuckers were everywhere. They'd multiplied since I was last back, spawned more evil traffic warden offspring and more whizzy scooters into our quiet London suburb. I paid 50p to park for 15 minutes so I could get a card without paying £30 for the privilege. Tonight, when I needed to go back for a stamp, I wasn't about to shell out of my dwindling coin supplies in my car. I needed to take action, and fast.

Just as I was about to scoot onto a yellow line across the road from the newsagent, I spied him. Doddering down the road on his little batmobile, beady little eyes glaring out from under his visor. I was indicating to cross onto the other side of the road to park, he was coming towards me. Our eyes met. He continued to stare, goding me almost...watching to see what on earth I thought I was doing attempting to park on a yellow line on his watch.

So I did what any self respecting girl would do when being glared at by a traffic warden driving by on his moped.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He drove past and as he did, turned around in astonishment to check that yes, that girl has just stuck her tongue out at me and that yes, she is now leaving her car parked on a yellow line.

Yeah, that's right...keep on driving, punk I muttered. And he did.

Although I didn't wait for my change in the newsagent on the way out. Let's not be silly.


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8 comments:

Memphis Steve said...

A beautiful girl can stick her tongue out at a policeman and get away with it. In fact, he's probably fantasizing about you and your tongue right now. But were a man to try that he'd get the Taser for sure.

the boy who likes to... said...

Long live punk!

London-Lass said...

That's showing him! Traffic wardens are a menace here in the West End - they've even adopted the policy of slapping tickets on cars which are actually LEGALLY parked - we have a bona fide parking space just outside our office which has become included in this - and their reasoning? If the owner of the car does not want to pay the fine then it is up to them to hound the Council to rescind the ticket. Even though said owner should never have got the ticket in the first place ...

Drama Queen said...

you go girl! that showed him. . .

nutmeg said...

I love a girl with balls!

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Miss Understood said...

Good for you! I wish he'd fallen off though, when he turned round to look.

Steph said...

I'm a huge fan of sticking one's tongue out at any given oppertunity. As for the little ticket Nazi, you should have thrown your shoe under his front wheel and watched him take a dive.
Always good for a laugh.

 

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