You Have Been Reported to The Parking Bureau
I have been driving for about 25 years now. During that time I have driven thousands of miles throughout the United States, Canada, Mexico and Israel. Countless hours of driving, not to mention those that I have logged as a passenger.
After all of that time behind the wheel I feel comfortable saying that I agree that society is changing and that courtesy is something that is apparently seen as being optional. Far too often the road is filled with people who do not signal, tailgate, make crazy lane changes and engage in all sorts of other driving buffoonery.
But what has really gotten my goat lately are those jackasses who think that the lines that denote parking spaces are optional, a suggestion of where they might park their car. I know, some of you mugs will claim that you were forced to park like that because of the way that other cars parked.
There is some truth to that. It only takes one car to set off a chain reaction of bad parking jobs. I’ll grant that occasionally it is a complete accident.
But not always. Sometimes the person does so intentionally, like the moron with the Texas plates who tried to protect their Mercedes by taking up two spaces. When I see that it reminds me that when I am king I am going to create The Ministry of Parking.
The Ministry of Parking or the Parking Bureau will punish these miscreants. There will be fines and all sorts of other nifty consequences. But since it is unlikely that I am going to made king any time soon I have a Plan B.
Plan B is to purchase a tow truck so that when you make it impossible for us to park we can take action. Take up two spaces and you’ll be towed. Park crookedly and you’ll be towed. Cut me off and you’ll be towed.
Kind of reminds me of a scene from Animal House. I’ll include the main selection, but the part I am referring to is Bluto reading off the list of retribution. One of my favorite sections of the movie.
D-Day: War’s over, man. Wormer dropped the big one.
Bluto: Over? Did you say “over”? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Boon: Forget it, he’s rolling.
Bluto: And it ain’t over now. ‘Cause when the goin’ gets tough…
Bluto: the tough get goin’! Who’s with me? Let’s go!
[runs out, alone; then returns]
Bluto: What the fuck happened to the Delta I used to know? Where’s the spirit? Where’s the guts, huh? This could be the greatest night of our lives, but you’re gonna let it be the worst. “Ooh, we’re afraid to go with you Bluto, we might get in trouble.” Well just kiss my ass from now on! Not me! I’m not gonna take this. Wormer, he’s a dead man! Marmalard, dead! Niedermeyer…
Otter: Dead! Bluto’s right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody’s part.
Bluto: We’re just the guys to do it.
D-Day: Let’s do it.
Bluto: Letâ€™s do it!
Sigh, I suppose that I’ll have to leave this all as a dream for now.
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