Parking is Such Street Sorrow

Buddy, Can You Spare a Quota?

2011-12-30T20:34:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone,

Well, here we are. Another Christmas season come and gone (Whew!). And am I ever glad. Although this particular Christmas wasn't too terrible, it had its share of people who made me feel I don't know what the spirit of the season is and I don't want to know! It seems that as soon as we hit December 1st, it is now the "Holiday Season" and we should refrain from giving tickets (a refrain I'm getting pretty sick of hearing). This time, Christmas week wasn't so bad, as I said, but New Year's Week - oh, brother. New Year's Day falls on a Sunday this year (coincidentally, so do I), and the city takes off on Monday. That means there is no street sweeping, trash collection and such. But person after person I encountered this week seemed to believe that New Year's Day started today (Friday) and their violations shouldn't count somehow. Many people demanded that I "do the right thing" and let them go. I found this very annoying. I was doing the right thing! Just ask my boss! It's the whiny entitlement aspect of it all I find so frustrating. "There's a holiday a few days from now so you should let me go today." Please. Go change your diaper. You stink.

Oh yeah, as to the title of this post: one lady I cited for the sweeper going around her vehicle got in my grill big time insisting that we must have a quota and I'm just doing this to fill that requirement, blah blah blah. I actually started feeling myself getting angry at this... person. I told her to go ahead and call the chief of police and ask him (he loves having his time wasted answering questions about parking control). We don't have a quota, we don't need a quota. A quota would only slow us down.

Okay, I understand. Times are tough; money's tight. But that means we as citizens have to take even more responsibility to make sure we are doing the right thing. It's cheaper, for one, and it creates better karma. I had one guy accuse me of being a robot. You know, just unemotionally giving him the ticket. I wish. It would be a hell of a lot easier on me (I'm so delicate) if I was emotionless. I think the Vulcans have it right sometimes. So, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't. ...Damn.

Have a happy 2012 and, to paraphrase Admiral What'shisname, Screw the Mayans, full speed ahead!

Ten-Seven

Don't egg me on

2011-11-30T18:42:00.001-08:00

Well, fellow citizens, I was having a pretty good day up until late this afternoon. I had just taken my vehicle to the car wash that we use and then decided to go check out a trouble spot that I am aware of in my beat. Who knew it would be more trouble than I bargained for? I got to the street and what did I find? One in the red zone on one side and another by the hydrant on the other side. Jackpot! So, I parked in the middle lane (we can do this), put my flashers and overhead lights on, and got out - carefully. I cited the one in the red, then I cross the wide boulevard to go over to cite the one by the hydrant. I'm looking down to get the plate when I hear: Booossshhh!

I look up to discover that someone has thrown an egg at my vehicle striking the windshield on the left side. Fortunately we drive looking out on the right side. But I mean, I had just gone to the car wash! I couldn't believe it! I did not see who threw the potential chicken as they must have done it from a car and sped off. I was more bummed than pissed. I also realized it could have been worse in a couple of ways:
Way 1 - they could have thrown it at me!
Way 2 - they could have thrown a rock.

One of the cops later told me, "Good thing it wasn't a bullet." I hadn't thought of that. Thanks.

The windshield washer and wipers were fairly ineffective, so back to the car wash I went. They cleaned it up all right, however, the inside of the vehicle smelled like cooked eggs the rest of the day. Not pleasant really.

This is the first time this has happened to me in all the time I've been on this job. Is it any wonder I'm ready to retire?

10-7

Whaddya Know?

2011-11-25T21:45:00.001-08:00

There are two things that drive me, Officer X, completely nuts when I’m out there writing tickets. Let’s say I catch somebody in a red zone (I wish you people would stop feeding my pet peeve already! He’s big enough as it is). When I pull up along side them to chase them out (which is not what I prefer to do but hey, Lieutenant’s orders) and I say to them “You can’t stop in the red (I respectfully leave out the word - asshole)” they will say one of two things in response. (No. Guess again. No. Okay, let me tell you.) They will say either, “I know.” To which I will generally say “You know but you did it anyway?” leaving out the word I’d love to scream, or they say “Oh, I didn’t know.” Really? You didn’t know? You have a driver’s license but you didn’t know that you can’t stop, stand or park in the friggin’ red? Wow, you really are an asshole then aren’t ya? Red means NO pretty much everywhere in the universe except maybe Mars. Is that where you’re from?

Sometimes I’ll ask them if they indeed have a driver’s license. Hey, you never know. When they start to say something again, I usually just chase them out with sharp words and mean looks (It’s fun. Try it sometime.) because I really do not want to hear their mealy-mouthed excuses.

The red can be stopped in if it’s an emergency. An emergency. A real one. Not something you decide is an emergency. The list is endless of what people think is an emergency so I’ll spare you. Sometimes, if I can remember and I am not crabby from not having eaten, I’ll ask the person if they are having car trouble. If they say yes then my whole demeanor changes. I actually do want to be helpful to people who can use my help. After all, with my trusty police-issued radio, I can summon policemen, firemen, ambulances, you name it. Well, ice cream men maybe not. But if they are not having car trouble and are just being stupid, then I go crazy behind my phony smile. I tell you, it’s tough on my back teeth. I’m grinding them down to nubs.

So please, if I ask you about being stopped in the red or any other of the dozens of parking infractions that you are doing or about to be doing, don’t say “I know” or “I didn’t know.” It makes me insane. Ya know?

Ten-Seven

Another turkey move

2011-11-24T15:08:00.001-08:00

People, people, people. Come on. Oh, pardon me, hello citizens. Today I'd like to discuss a bone-headed move by one of you in my little town. You know who you are and if it's not you, then don't do this okay?

I was doing my 8AM sweeper route and came across a car (a Benz, no less) in the sweeper zone that had no rear plate. Or so I thought. This is a drag because it means I have to get out of my vehicle. It's cold, I was listening to something interesting on the radio, why piss me off?

Okay, so I get out to read the VIN (vehicle identification number - to say "VIN number" is redundant and I won't do it), and what do I discover? He or she had left the front plate on the car. I went around to the back and found that she (turns out it was a woman's car. Still it could have been a male driver. Who knows how relationships go these days and what with our community property laws in California, you know...) had put a dealer plate OVER her rear plate to cover up the fact that it was more than six months out of date. Tsk, tsk, tsk. If you're not going to register your car, don't park it illegally in some other way! Duh!

So, the final verdict was this: I cited her for the sweeper violation. I cited her for the expired tags, AND I cited her for covering her plate. Three for the price of one! I know this sounds harsh but really I could have towed her car away and as you know, that can run into big money.

So this Thanksgiving, I hope she was thankful that I was so nice to her. But I'm betting she was not.

Digest this (and your turkey) well.

10-7

You're a 10 (code)

2011-11-06T16:55:00.000-08:00

As promised, my dear citizens, here are the 10 codes used by our local force (and also by us. We can’t use force). I probably shouldn't be publishing these because they are after all, codes. But, if Julian Assange can do it, what the hey.

10-1 = Receiving Poorly (This does not refer to your favorite football team)

10-2 = Receiving OK (Good hands)

10-4 = Check; OK (Well, we all know this one from the CB craze in the 80’s, which we’d just as soon forget, or if you’re old enough, from Broderick Crawford in Highway Patrol. I do not remember this.)

10-5 = Relay (I have no friggin’ idea what this means and I’ve never heard anyone say this on the radio. Maybe in a race.)

10-6 = Busy (Could be busy doing anything so don’t bother me now. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)

10-7 = Out Of Service (This restaurant stinks. Let’s go eat somewhere else)

10-8 = In Service (I’m available for calls. Said reluctantly by most PCO’s.)

10-9 = Repeat, Conditions Bad (I couldn’t hear you with the rock station in my vehicle turned up so high)

10-10 = Out of Service, Subject to Call (Huh? I thought I was out of service. What the -?)

10-13 = Weather Condition (People usually just say it’s raining)

10-14 = Escort (And she’s better be over 18)

10-15 = Suspect in Custody (Thankfully, we’d never say this.)

10-16 = Pick Up Prisoner @ ______ (We never pick anyone up [unless they’re over 18])

10-17 = Pick Up Papers (You slob)

10-19 = Return to Station (And I mean it. Don’t make me ask again. Sometimes we say this if we are, you know, going back to the station. It’s nice there)

10-20 = What is Your Location (Honestly, some people are so nosy)

10-21 = Call __________ by Phone (Not unless you tell me who!)

10-22 = Disregard (Fuggedaboudit!)

10-23 = Stand by (No one EVER says 10-23. It’s easier just to say Stand By. How silly to make a code for this)

10-28 = Full Registration (No, not at a hotel. We say this to get the info on a car we might be citing, like whether it’s registered or not [That year tab looks fake to me])

10-29 = Check for Wanted (In other words, can you see if this vehicle is stolen? If so, I’m outta here)

10-33 = Emergency Information (I’d never say this. I’d be too busy screaming)

10-35 = Confidential Information (I guess I’d better not tell you what this means)

10-36 = Time Check (Look at your watch you lazy bastard!)

10-42 = Officer @ Home (Yep, and that’s where I’m stayin’)

10-97 = Arrived @ Scene (Hey man, I’m always on the scene baby)

10-98 = Completed Last Detail (Not the movie with Jack Nicholson. It means I’m done with what you just had me do…and now I’m going back home. Quit bothering me)

That’s all of them. Aren’t you glad you now know all this? I expect every one of you to commit these to memory. Heaven knows I can’t.

10-7 (I think)

Another Fun Little Story

2011-11-01T20:48:00.000-07:00

I gave a sidewalk ticket today (my least favorite as you know). After I was done, of course the whole family came out of the house (the man first). He comes over waving the ticket and speaking in an accent I think was from Uranus or somewhere. He says, “Why did you give us a ticket?” I patiently explained that his SUV was parked too far over the sidewalk. “But this is my private property!” No sir, I explained again patiently, the property lines starts after the sidewalk. Then the wife (whose car it was) chimes in. “What does it say in the vehicle code?” Such erudition for a troglodyte. I explained again somewhat less patiently what the code was. Her husband looked back at her and her sister? His sister? He said something in Uranian and they quickly shut up. I guess he said I’ll handle this bastard or something equally wonderful. He throws the ticket into my vehicle and says, “You cannot give us a ticket!” I take the ticket and say “I’ll just mail it to you then.” He says, “No! You cannot mail it. You cannot mail it!” (Yes, we can) So I figured, okay, and just got out of my vehicle and put the damned thing back on his wife’s windshield. Now he’s really getting worked up. “I’m going to sue you! What is your name?” I wouldn’t say even though it’s stitched on my shirt in a nifty patch over my breast pocket. Then he bellows, “You will remember this day! You will remember this day!” Well, I guess so. I’m writing about it. But honestly, I’d just as soon forget it.

10-7

Pardon me, but your pants are on fire

2011-10-29T14:43:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of pants on fire in my town. That's because when we are approached by a citizen that we are in the process of citing, they usually lie to us. I don't like to be lied to, do you? It's degrading to both of us, isn't it? Don't get me wrong, I understand why the person feels compelled to twist the truth - to prevent a loss of money - but it still stinks. Some examples of the kinds of lies we hear on a regular basis are things like, "I have only been here for five minutes." Nah, they've been there for over two hours and the chalk doesn't lie. Or, "I moved it." This one gets a bit tricky because if the chalk mark is now on top of the tire, yes, they moved it - a few inches. So technically it's really more of a half-truth, but they're still going to be cited for it. Or how about, "This isn't Tuesday, it's Wednesday." I had a guy argue with me for ten minutes trying to psych me out into thinking it was the wrong day and he didn't deserve the street sweeping ticket. Of course, the day of the week is printed right on the ticket, but I have to give him a point or two for trying, fruitless as it was.

Lies can also take other forms too. Take for example, the note. People will leave notes on their cars when they park them in the sweeper zone and can't be bothered to get up early and move the damn thing, or they've gone out of town to visit Grandma and they can't be bothered to move the damn thing, or they are simply so dumb they think it's Wednesday and they don't think they have to MOVE THE DAMN THING! These notes can range from such excuses (or lies) as "My battery is dead" (More like your brain is dead.) Or, "Can't find the keys." (Did you look up your butt?) Or simply, "Won't start." (Then, push it.) By the way, we have to honor these pathetic notes because, well, batteries do die when a person leaves their lights on overnight, say, or the car has no battery in the first place. However, if we see the same car with the same note on the following week, it gets a ticket. We now know you are out of town visiting Grandma. But we do hope her lumbago is feeling better.

The worst case happened a few years ago. A young woman was in the red zone near the post office. She was in the post office and her large doggie was walking around on the back seat. I pull up, she comes out and she turns red in the face (redder than the red zone, in fact), makes tiny fists with her little hands, storms over to me like a drunken sailor on shore leave and says, "Are you going to give me a ticket?" "Yes, ma'am. You can't stop in the red." "But my dog is dying and I'm taking him to the vet." "So, you stopped at the post office to....what? Mail his will to his lawyer?" The dog did not look sick at all. As I said, it was walking around on the back seat acting dog-like. By this time, steam was coming out of the petite woman's ears. I started getting angry, which is never a good thing for us to do. The more Vulcan-like we can be about our jobs the better. But the way she approached me, frankly, I thought she was going to hit me so the fight or flight response welled up in me and since we can't flee, we go into fight mode. What happened was, I actually let her go - a decision I regret bitterly to this day. And guess what? She didn't go to any vet's office. She drove away fast and turned up into one of the residential streets. I was so pissed off, that what I said when I got back into my vehicle cannot be shared here.

We know our job is not welcomed by a large majority of the driving public. Just don't look at me and lie. We are human and we don't like it. And we always know.

10-7

I have a code

2011-10-24T16:36:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed (those of you who are paying any attention whatsoever), that I sign off all of my blog posts with the police code 10-7. That means I'm Out of Service, or I'm done for the day and I'm not answering if you call me on this here radio. Take your pick. We use a lot of codes in the policing biz, so as a public menace, I mean service, I thought I'd tell you what some of the other codes mean. At least, the ones we use in my little town. They differ from state to state and department to department. For example, if I'm going Code 7 that means I'm out of service so I can stuff some food into my face. In some Florida cities Code 7 means there is a dead body, so you can see why you wouldn't want to mix those up. By the way, Code 7.8 means the food at this restaurant tastes like a dead body, so don't eat here.

So, here are some (mercifully for you not all) of our codes:
Code 3 - Emergency (or Come Save My Ass Using Lights and Sirens)
Code 4 - No Further Assistance Needed (I'm cool. Y'all can chill)
Code 5 - Stake Out - Other units stay away
Code 5.1 - Steaks Done - All units come and get 'em
Code 57 - Bring steak sauce
Code 6 - I'm out for investigation
Code 6.9 - I'm out for a good time

Now, there are a lot of Code 6s so they use names to designate between them. Such as:

Code 6 David - Subject is armed and dangerous
Code 6 Pooh - I need new pants
Code 6 Jeffrey Dahmer - Someone ate the subject
Code 6 Robert - Sex registrant
Code 6 Robert Plant - Hotel room wrecker
Code 6 Sam - Vehicle is stolen
Code 6 Damn! - My vehicle is stolen
Code 6 Victor- Violent offender
Code 6 Iwiwi - I wish I was invisible
Code 10 - Only unit available
Code 10.5 - Are there any single female units available?
Code 867-5309 - Jenny's number
Code 35 - Infectious disease
Code 35.9 - Forget Jenny

These are but a few. Come back next time and I'll go through the 10 codes. Until then,

10-7 (now you know)

High Times and Misdemeanors

2011-10-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

Hello all you wonderful citizens,

Well, today I had a first on this job. After almost nine years as a Parking Control Officer, I was impounding a car today and I found drugs inside! Well, a drug. Well, a little pot. But still! Okay, here's what happened:

I was looking for a different car I had seen while tooling around whose tags looked like they were expired in 2010. So, I circled the block and came up a side street. Looky there! An SUV from, da da da dah! Texas. I always check the vehicles from Texas because they are notorious for not registering their cars in Texas or when they leave Texas (Now you know one of the reasons I'm rooting for the Cardinals in the World Series). Sure enough the reg was out of date from February of 2011. Oops. So, I called for the tow truck, he got there and he started hooking the car up. Now, the police have requested that we PCOs do a fairly thorough inventory of the vehicle we are impounding - outside and in. This is so no one can claim that the tow truck driver put a dent in the thing or that something was stolen from inside. The driver had almost finished when I figured that the vehicle owner was probably in one of the nearby houses and we should perhaps take the thing around the corner and finish up away from the house. Either the owner will appear or a neighbor will think they are helping by emerging, going over and knocking on the owner's door and warning them. This is a big pain to us, naturally.

So, we take the SUV around the corner to be away from prying eyes. We open it. Of course, it had an alarm. Great. What we didn't know was, the owner was in the very office building that we were parked in front of visiting his father. Oops. Now by this time I had looked inside the vehicle and found a small container of pot (which smelled pretty righteous - of course I've only been told that's how it smells) which had a medical marijuana label on it (Chuckle. Yeah, right). So, I had to do my duty and call for an officer to come and take the offending substance away. I did so and just then, the kid comes out and says, what are you guys doing? I mean, what does it LOOK like we're doing? He says, can't we talk about this, can't we do something about this, can't I take care of this now? All the while I'm thinking he really must be nervous about that grass in the center console. I tell him, no, I'm impounding the car. So he gets on his cell and calls his dad in the office building. His dad comes out and starts making gorilla faces and postures, you know, huffing and puffing and all that. Then, I kid you not, he climbs up onto the back of the tow truck just like King Kong and says he's not coming down and we'd better release the vehicle, blah blah, grunt grunt. I'm surprised he didn't start pounding his chest. He was trying to scare both of us but he was not succeeding. By this time, his kid (cut from the same simian cloth) had gone into the car, retrieved the pot and stuffed it down his pants. He takes off across the small side street where two of his buddies are, gives them the dope and they take off down the street.

Well, the cops arrive (and I do mean cops. Three squad cars and a motor officer - the Sarge) and I tell them the whole shot and they do what cops do best - they intimidate the shit out of people (not me, of course). They control the whole situation beautifully. I think they fined the kid for the pot (he admitted he had some in the car, the dummy) and they put the old man on notice to keep it together and let us (me and the tow truck driver) do our jobs. Then the Sarge (thanks, Sarge) says, are you guys done? We say yes and he says, then you can take off. And we do.

For the first time finding drugs in a vehicle (for me anyway. Some of my colleagues have before), the whole thing turned out to be a lot of fun. The only thing I haven't seen yet is a dead body in a car. I'm thinking that would be decidedly not as much fun.

Ten-Seven

One Way Or Another

2011-10-17T21:35:00.000-07:00

I love this song by Blondie. It could almost be our PCO theme song. "One way or another I'm gonna getcha, I'll getcha, I'll getcha getcha getcha getcha....." (Spell checker hates that last line) This song brings up the notion that criminals (and no, I don't think you errant parkers are really criminals but it's a useful term for the purpose of this post) always make some mistake and eventually get caught. As Rod Serling might have said (oooh, I am bringing up the cultural references today, aren't I?), "Case in point":

I marked the two hour zones all down one of the main drags in our little town, and of course came back to pick up those marks a little more than two hours later as I am wont to do (as I'm supposed to do actually). Well sir (or ma'am), sure enough I see a nice big juicy chalk mark on a tire and pull up behind the vehicle to cite it when lo and behold! I notice that the year tab is from 2007! Now, the 07s are the same color as the 12s (Hey DMV! Yeah, I'm talking to you guys! Can't you add a couple more colors to your pallet of year tabs? I mean it. Spend the cash. It would help us out a lot. Thanks. [They won't listen]), so, I get to not only cite it for the expired registration (AND the two hour violation), I figure I'll tow it away too. Four years is a wee bit - just a tad - too long to let it go. Actually you only get 6 months, then we can take it the next day.

The lady came out of the store and when I gave her the bad news, to her credit, she accepted her fate. That's rather unusual but she knew she did wrong. And get this, she started to get it registered in 2009 but never completed the process! I mean, she had two years and then another two years to save up the money! Come on! But, her mistake was not moving her car out of the two hour zone. I might have come by and seen the color of the tab but NOT THE YEAR and driven right on by.

Maybe it is criminal in a way. Not to the city or to the State of California, but to herself.

Where's my Blondie cd?

10-7

Crossing Guard Duty

2011-10-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

One aspect of my job that I have yet to mention is when they put us on a corner to fill in for one of the Crossing Guards. You know, those nice folks (mostly elderly, some Hispanic, some... who can figure it out?) who make sure your kiddies get across the street safely at a school. Well, today I had the opportunity to fill in, as one of the female Crossing Guards, as my supervisor put it, "threw up on her corner." Niiiiiice. I suppose I can understand it as we had today what I hope will be the last of the 100 degree days (!!!!!) here in SoCal. It shouldn't be 100 degrees in mid-October, thank you very much. Intelligent Design, my ass. Anyway, I went there expecting to find a pile of puke there, baking and bubbling away in the hot sun (Sorry. I'm truly sorry about that). But, to my relief (and yours I'm sure), there was nothing burning up on the sidewalk but me.

Now, there are some aspects of this assignment that I actually enjoy. I like kids (not that way, you pervert). I enjoy teasing with them and trying to make them laugh. Sometimes, it actually works! For example, if a kid comes by snacking on an ice cream bar, as some did today, I will say to them, "Oooh, ice cream! Did you bring one for me?" When they say no, I tell them it's okay because I already had my lunch and I'm getting too fat anyway. Sometimes I can get a chuckle out of a kid depending on their age. Today a young boy asked me, "Why are you wearing pants?" Well, I was just as shocked as you probably are. But he was young and I sussed out his meaning right away. I thought I'd kid around first though and told him, Well, if I don't wear pants I'll get fired, or go to jail. His mom was laughing. Then I said, you mean how come I'm not wearing shorts because it's hot, right? He nodded. I told him it's none of his damned business why I wasn't wearing shorts and if he wanted to get ahead in life he better not go around asking older men that question. No, I didn't say that. I do actually want to keep my job.... for now.

The other nice thing about doing Crossing Guard duty is looking at the pretty, young mommies (hm, now I am getting pervy, aren't I?) or as they are sometimes called here in InternetLand, MILFs. I won't explain this acronym to you because I suspect that most of you already know what it means. For those who do not however, I'll explain it this way: Mommies I'd Like To Spend The Rest Of My Life With or MILTSTROMLWs. There, that's better. Some times these MILTs, as I call them, will say hi, chat and/or flirt and it's fun. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages (Grannies not allowed though. Let's be civil here, okay?) I don't mean to be sexist about this thing but, I mean, I don't look at the daddies now do I? Wait, this piece was supposed to be about protecting the children from maniacs who shouldn't be driving in the first place, not me fantasizing about elbowing their dads aside and taking his place at the old hearth in the living room. But, what the hell. They don't pay me enough so fantasy has got to be one of the fringe benefits. Right?

Ten-Seven

Another quick story

2011-09-13T13:09:00.000-07:00

The other day I was driving past a gas station and was flagged down by a guy who said a lady's car was on fire. I thought, why is he telling me this? I'm not a fireman, but okay, I do have a radio to the police station.

So, I pull around and into the station and a guy there (a young guy who I used to work with at a previous job, by the way) told me that a couple of them pushed the lady's car away from the pumps and sure enough, it was now blocking the sidewalk so nobody could walk by!

As it turned out, the lady was deaf. When I asked her what had happened, I had to use a combination of charades (which I'm very good at) and writing things on my pad of paper. She was typing responses to me on her phone which was so slow and maddening, that she just grabbed my pad and pen and starting writing furiously.

The car was not burning. What happened was, she had had a repair recently and the mechanic, if you can call him that, used blue tape - yes, blue painter's masking tape! - to wrap some wires together. Well, the tape was resting on a hot part of the engine, and amazingly, it caught fire! She was fine, the car was fine except that she lost the fan that cools the radiator. She told me she thought she could make it home (she lived about 4 miles away), so I had the Desk cancel the cops and the firemen and let her drive off. I hope she made it. I never found out one way or another.

These are the kinds of things that happen when you're out in the street all day. What fun!

10-7

Training Day

2011-08-10T14:06:00.000-07:00

Well, Training Month actually. I had been tasked for the past few weeks with the training of the newest PCO. So, besides all the usual routine activities, a few unusual things occurred and I will relate them to you now. Please sit down. You may not believe some of this stuff.

1). We found a car with a fake year tab that was so bad, we both spotted it while driving by at 20 miles an hour. We stopped to cite him and tow him (his car registration was two years out of date), he came out of his house, and we had to call a cop to our location. He made the guy sit on the curb and watch us. His story was so stupid, it was all we could do not to laugh.

2). While driving near a liquor store slash market, we noticed a guy who had just opened a beer. The beer was spilling out over the top of the bottle and his pants were falling off exposing his naked buttocks (I may have to start adding pictures to this blog just because of this guy). If that weren't enough, he sat on the hot sidewalk under a sign that essentially called him a clown. We laughed and laughed this time.

3). We saw a guy riding a bicycle while carrying a cup of coffee on his head! It must have been hot because he had his head wrapped in a t-shirt like a turban. Don't know how he managed not to spill any of it.

4). We encountered an older gent driving down the up ramp in one of the parking structures. It was all we could do to convince him he was doing the wrong thing. Sheesh!

5). We found a car in the sweeper zone with a dead pigeon on the hood. The scary part was, the bird had no head! Was it a Mafia-like message for the offender not to park there anymore? Or just some red-tailed hawk's idea of a sick joke. We got out of there quickly.

6). We found a car full of trash (the driver said they were recyclables) that was double parked in the roadway. Let me explain this: the trash was completely stuffing the inside, of course, but it was also on the hood and the trunk. Piled high! The car had no plates but did have a red number from the DMV in the rear window. He had to scatter trash off the trunk and onto the road in order for us to see it. "Are you going to give me a ticket?" Moron.

And finally, 7). We cited a guy's friend who had parked his car across the sidewalk. When the guy came out of his house, he asked us in his accented (and probably learned from the movies) English, "What is duh meaning of dis?" I was so astonished, all I could do was repeat the question back to him (with much better enunciation) "What is the meaning of this?" I was tempted to ask him if he meant his query in a metaphysical sense which would have rendered any answer I could have given completely unsatisfactory in a world as mundane as a PCOs. Instead I just gave him the facts. We laughed about this guy for days.

Well, training is almost over for our newbie. I hope she goes on to have a sterling career. If she can keep a straight face.

Signed,
Officer X
or
The Prince of Parking
The Sultan of Spots
The King of the Curb
The Rajah of Red Zones
(You get the idea)

10-7

Verify This!

2011-06-23T19:12:00.001-07:00

There are all kinds of signs in our city. Most of them just sit there year in and year out and nobody ever seems to read them. Maybe they take them for granted like they do their spouse (But I digress, and rather well, I think). No, there is another type of sign that now and again makes an appearance. Yes, I'm talking (writing, actually) about the Temporary No Parking signs. You've all seen, I'm sure, those red and white beauties. These allow us to cite you AND to tow you away so read them please, because some of my colleagues live for this.

The local economy must be doing okay because lately The Desk has been sending a lot of us to "verify" that they are indeed there (the signs not the folks who sit at The Desk), and that they are filled out correctly (the folks who sit at The Desk are also pretty filled out but I will not cast aspersions on them. They have a hard job.) So, we copy down all the info we are given and off we zoom (read: slog) to the location or locations. You are lucky if there is only one location and only two, three or four signs. I've been sent to long stretches of road to verify over a hundred signs when there is some big event that needs the parking space there. And don't get me started on the parade route when that comes around!

I realize now that I need one of those clicker counters that people who work the door of various venues have. It would be much easier than trying to count the number out loud - there's so many distractions like the police radio, the radio radio, the people stopping you to ask inane questions, you get the idea.

Then, you have another problem: when The Desk tells you one thing and the signs say another. Or, they are not filled out correctly or completely. Or they are not placed properly on cones, delineaters, sign poles or telephone poles or even trees. No, sometimes the people posting them think it's okay to put them on the wall or the fence of their business, you know, where the parker won't notice them! I actually saw one recently on the handrail of the stairs leading into the building! You might see it if you were inclined to park right there on the sidewalk but otherwise, forget it!

So, sometimes we have to go back and re-verify them when they are corrected. It's such a waste of time. I'd like to quit all this nonsense. Maybe I should take all this as sign.

10-7

T.A.

2011-06-08T12:30:00.000-07:00

The title of this post is NOT about what some of you are thinking about (those of you who troll the Internet looking for salacious material [Hello Anthony, I'm talking to you! Dummy.]). Besides, if it were, there would be an ampersand (&) between the letters. No, a T.A. refers to what the police call a Traffic Accident. The police respond to many of these on a daily basis, this being the Los Angeles area and people are constantly being distracted by a cell phone call, a text, or a pretty girl or guy walking on the sidewalk in a skimpy outfit (okay, that's as salacious as this is going to get). But we Parking types don't really respond to T.A.s unless we need to block a street or help direct traffic around the incident.

The reason I'm writing about this today is, the other day I was the first one on the scene at a pretty bad T.A. that happened right by the police station. Here's what happened: I was heading in to end my work day when I turned up the street and noticed people trying to get my attention and pointing up the street. Usually when people point at me they are using one specific finger, but this time they seemed to be trying to tell me something. I got further up the block and saw just what it was. A car had obviously been t-boned in the intersection and the young lady was still in the vehicle, which was now pulled onto the side street, the one I was on. I pulled over and jumped out of my city vehicle and immediately got on the police radio. I called in and asked them if they had a report on the accident. They said no. I told them about it and that I was checking for injuries. Then I got closer to the girl. She was badly shaken up, had cuts on her face and head, and there was blood.

Now, I like scary movies but not bloody ones. I got a little shaken up myself but I held my composure in order to help her. I asked her if she needed a paramedic. Her answer caught me by surprise. "Do I have to pay for it?" This is what our country has come to folks. I don't mean to get political here but this is telling. I told her, "I wouldn't worry about money right now. Let's worry about your health." I got back on the radio and called for paramedics, I called in the license plates of the two vehicles involved (the cops need this in case one of the parties is wanted), and I called for the tow company the city uses to clean up the intersection of all the debris (glass, metal and plastic that other cars were now driving over).

I tried to keep the young lady calm while she called her father and told him, through sobs and tears, about the accident. Her boyfriend, who was unharmed, then told me what had happened: they had swung wide in the intersection to make a u-turn and the pick-up behind them kept coming (obviously at a pretty good clip) and smashed into them. Then he asked me if it was illegal to make the u-turn there. It wasn't but one of our motorcycle officer told him that all parties in that situation have the responsibility to be safe about it. The other driver, the one with the large pick-up, was unharmed as well. The cops were speaking with him. The paramedics and a firetruck arrived, the tow truck was there and the tow truck driver was out sweeping up. The intersection got jammed with cars and the sidewalk with on-lookers. It was a mess. One of the officers directed traffic and they told me I could go, without so much as a thanks or a "good job." As I said, it's routine for the officers but not for us. Certainly not for me. And blood does bother me, mine or other people's. But, it all goes with the job.

I am part of what they call the "First Responders." I like it better when they say "Everyday Heroes." I don't ever feel heroic on my job, believe me, but that day, I kinda did.

Ten-Seven

What I really want to do is....

2011-05-30T13:33:00.001-07:00

Anyone who lives in the Los Angeles area and has any connection at all with Show Biz will know how the title of this blog entry would finish. ...direct. Now, I came out here to be an actor, a writer, a director and I have had some success in all three of those areas. But working as a Parking Control Officer has also given me the opportunity to direct. To direct traffic.

Recently we had two (count 'em two!) High School graduations (I have capitalized High School so you wouldn't think I was saying the schools were high in the hills or the students were high in the classrooms. Although this is the Los Angeles area and anything is possible, I suppose). And you know what High School graduations mean. Yep, that's right. Bad driving. Not only by students mind you, but also by parents, grandparents, siblings, friends. All those people who are told the graduation starts at 6PM and who show up at 7:30PM asking where to park in an extremely crowded area. Sigh. Well, it's hard to complain about the ingress. But the egress! Please, get me started.

As the cars arrive for the festivities, they arrive in a staggered way (and no, I'm not talking about high students again). So, parking them is relatively easy. But of course, when the graduation is over, all the cars want to leave at the same time. This is commonly referred to by the police as a "cluster fuck." For those of you with delicate sensibilities let me apologize for the use of that word. Just understand it's not MY word but the word used by the police. Trust me, MY word is much worse.

So, here I am in the semi-gloom of a darkening sky trying to direct traffic at what is essentially a four-way intersection with one of the intersecting roads being blocked in such a way as to make it a one-way only. And wouldn't you know it? That's the most convenient way out! So of course everyone wants to go that way! Did you ever see anyone make a u-turn on a road that was closed off in one direction? I have. And I'm still amazed at myself for not throwing my shoes at those drivers. But I was standing on a hill so if I had done that it would have been even more difficult on my balance and my arches.

Add to all this the fact that there were other things going on in the area and you can imagine the chaos (some call it fun). Actually, truth be told, directing traffic IS kind of fun. Unless you've done it yourself, you can't imagine the feeling of power it gives you. The power to decide who gets to go and who must stop. The power to make the driver stop even though he or she wants to go soooo badly (and most of them do go badly, trust me). This sounds like the ultimate in ego-tripping and yeah, I guess it is. It's intense but it's kind of a thrill.

I'm sick, aren't I? Well, I really would rather direct films. Pass the Epsom salts. I'm going to soak my feet.

10-7

Welcome Back

2011-05-23T21:09:00.000-07:00

For various reasons I will not go into, I was off work for a little while. No, it had nothing to do with the last post. I'm suspecting that not many people read it in the first place. No, I was off work for a couple of weeks and on my first day back, with the very first ticket I wrote, the guy comes out of his house and gives me the finger (you know which one) and curses me out (oh, the redundancy of it all) using the same words that this particular finger indicated. He argued with me about the ticket, I told him to go argue with the clerk in the station, and I drove away.

Later on, another person told me in no uncertain terms that I was a bad person (if he only knew!) and what I should go do to myself. I don't think so.

Oy. So much for any relaxation I may have gotten from being off.

Welcome back.

Ten-Seven

(I can't wait to write EOW which means End Of Watch which means I'm through with this fahcacktah job. I can dream.)

You Gotta Be So Careful

2011-03-27T17:47:00.000-07:00

I heard the above phrase many times as I was preparing to write this particular blog entry. I promised you earlier that I was going to let you in on a little behind the scenes doings by writing about some of my colleagues. Now, that time has come. Let me say, that I will not be writing about any of the police. They carry guns. The most us PCOs get is pepper spray and I think I have the perfect defense for that stuff. It involves staring behind the person with the spray can, saying "What's that?" and then running like hell the other way. Foolproof.

Now, the other reason I must be careful is that, while I'm not in love with my job, I do enjoy being able to pay all my bills and have a little left over for the occasional chocolate bar. I don't want to lose this sucka now. Okay, so here goes: I will tell you about three of my fellow ticket-writers by giving them aliases.

1. Eeeyore - This guy is so miserable that listening to him on the radio is at times painful. When he's given a call by the communications center, his response is classic. Teeeenn-foooooourrrrr. Just like Pooh's jackass friend. Everything seems a burden to this guy and sometimes I feel bad for him (nah, now that I think about him, he deserves whatever he gets). The guy's stated goal is to make everyone else around him miserable too, and you know?, he does a pretty good job of that.

2. Zelda the Over-Zealous - She is obsessive. She MUST GET EVERYONE! She'll mark the tires on the same cars on the same block sixteen times a day just to keep her meds from wearing off. She would ticket her own grandmother for stopping in a red zone for two seconds to throw up out the window. She is also the impound queen. She'll impound your car just for the pure pleasure she gets from filling out the form. If your car is out of registration six months and one day, look out. She'll take it. We're all just lucky she doesn't have access to one of those car crushers. Oh, is this your cube?

3. I saved the worst for last. Baby Huey - This guy is big, fat, bald and a little baby. He is a classic bully who'll suck up to the higher-ups and look down on those below him in seniority. A real animal. He hates himself so much that he in turn hates everyone else. Mean just doesn't begin to describe this creep. He actually takes delight in intimidating people. He tried to do it to me when I was a newbie. I didn't take the bait and he hasn't spoken to me since (eight years!). This guy is well-known around town. Generally the comments we get are in the vein of "What's wrong with that fat guy?" or "Man, he's a douche." Now, I'm no psychologist but if I was, I would have warned the city that hiring this guy was a biiiiiggggg mistake. It's just not fair to repulse the citizens AND your co-workers. Did I mention he's fat? Real fat. And bald. And ugly (although that's a judgment call, I suppose, considering he dating Zelda!). When I think of the two of them together, all I can think of is The Rolling Thunder Tour (she's heavy too, you see). By the way, office romances are frowned upon by the department. This romance would be frowned upon by anyone with eyes!!!

Am I being unduly harsh? You don't know the half of it.

Ten-Seven

Prejudice

2011-02-08T21:59:00.000-08:00

A disturbing occurrence today. I was driving down the street looking for a car that had been marked (chalk on the tires) for a 72 hour complaint. I couldn't find it (the guy must have moved it) but I did find the guy who owns it. He was getting into his piece of junk small motor home (it's more like one of those house cars). He started the thing up, fouling the neighborhood with the stench of his engine fumes, when he spotted me. He rolled the smelly wreck up to where I was and starting berating me for marking only his cars and not all the other ones on the street. He said, "You only mark the Spanish ones." I was incensed. We don't do that kind of thing. We've been accused of this kind of prejudice before but we honestly don't care about the color of the owner, just the color of the vehicle. I got angry and told him that we don't operate that way and that it was an unfair accusation. He made noises of one kind and another about the other cars on the block. I told him if he had a complaint to call it in to the station. Then I drove off.

People who can't take responsibility sometimes resort to this tactic but it's lame. We really couldn't give a damn what a person is like on the outside. As long as they follow the rules and behave in a socially acceptable way (at least when it comes to parking), we are completely colorblind and neutral. I know some people have a victim mentality but this guy was just mad because he always leaves his few vehicles on the street for days at a time and never moves them. So we end up having to mark them again and again because he just doesn't get it. Some of his cars are eyesores and his neighbors complain about them. What can we do?

For him to pull the race card was simply a disgrace. That's not how we do things. We've all learned that knuckleheads come in all colors.

Ten-Seven

The Lemming Effect

2011-02-07T10:00:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone,

Don't you remember when your mother told you this: "If your friend jumped off a building, would you do it too?" She was trying to warn you that following the crowd was sometimes not a wise thing to do. This morning I saw a perfect example of why this is true.

I was doing the 8AM to 10AM street sweeper route. I turned a corner onto a rather busy street in our little burg and to my astonishment the whole block was full of parked cars. Full!

Holy Smoke!, I exclaimed (okay, actually I exclaimed something different but hey, I never know who may be reading this). There were at least seven cars there in the sweeper zone. I got out and started writing tickets furiously. I'm sure if anyone had come out and seen me, they would have been furious too.

Now, the reason there were so many cars there was what I call The Lemming Effect. If one goes over the cliff, they all do. (I have since come to find out that lemmings don't really do this, but for my purposes I'll use it because I like it and it's my blog). When one car parks somewhere, even illegally, people just assume that because that person parked here it must be okay. HA! I'll say it again. HA! No need to actually read the sign, there are cars here. It must be okay. HA! What they didn't know was that one of those vehicles was disabled (it had a note saying it had a dead battery. A word about this: we don't always believe the notes but we are obliged to honor them because, who knows?, it may be true and we wouldn't want to cite a vehicle that actually can't move. Vehicles do stop working now and again. For proof you only have to look at my old car, if you can find it. I've stopped looking).

So, I wrote five tickets in that spot this morning. I didn't cite the disabled car and one guy came out and I let him go because he was just making a quick delivery to the medical center across the street. Wait, there was a medical center across the street? You didn't say that! Well, yes. This is also one reason why there were so many cars on that side of the street. The parking over there is abysmal. And the drivers don't want to pay the five to seven bucks for the parking structure. Instead, they park illegally and have to shell out forty bucks. Oh, Brother.

Lemmings may just have more intelligence than people after all.

Ten-Seven

Two Beats

2011-02-03T18:28:00.000-08:00

Hello Citizens,

I realized I never talked about what happens when we are assigned two (or sometimes more [gasp!]) beats to patrol. Let me tell you, it ain't pretty.

First, a beat consists of a specific area of our little hamlet. There are six beats overall here and that's enough. Really there are seven if you count our small downtown area. This has been carved into another beat because, well, lots of people park there. I pity the guy who must patrol this beat all the time because, while any of the beats can become downright boring after a month's time (we rotate after that), the downtown area can become simply unbearable after a week or two. There's just not that much there. Of course the shop owners and the regulars get to know the downtown beat person pretty well, and we get to know them. I think it's harder on us. The shop owners think they can park in front of their place of business all day. Of course they can't, but why would they want to? Don't they want their customers to have a convenient place to park to patronize their business? I don't get it. Unless they think that they work so hard that they are entitled to a little laziness. Costly laziness though.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Two beats. Usually when you have two beats, doing a lot of marking of tires is out of the question. Why? Well, usually when you respond to a request for service or a Desk Call, as we say, they are invariably in the other beat - not the one you are in at the time. Then, you can be sure that the next desk call will be all the way on the other side of the beat you just left. It really taxes your vehicle and your nerves. You just can't get anything else done! This morning for example, I had two beats. I had the other beat's eight o'clock sweeper zone to patrol, we had a roll call at nine-thirty back at the station which I would barely be in time for, then I had my regular ten o'clock sweeper route to do. So, what happens? The Desk gives me a call to do "after your eight o'clocks" all the way on the other side of town (Damn you, Murphy and your law anyway!). Now, there were three other PCOs out there in the field who had nothing to do in the morning. Do any of them "buy" the call for me? Of course not. Those lazy bastards. I called the supervisor and asked her if she would have one of the others do the call for me. She did and I was happy. Still pissed off, but happy (This is simply a taste of what's coming when I write fully about my colleagues. It's coming, I promise).

Having two beats is a royal pain. But, it beats having no beats. Anyway, I prefer beets.

And beers.

Ten-Seven

Letting people go

2011-01-20T20:16:00.000-08:00

I must relate this occurrence while it is still fresh, although fresh is a bad word to use because it completely stinks. I marked a green zone today which allows for ten minute parking. We give about fifteen. So because I was busy, I came back about a half hour later. I figured the zone would be clear. To my surprise, there was a vehicle still there and still marked. I pulled to the curb and got out, prepared to write the ticket. Of course the guy came out of the business. He gets into the car and as he does so I tell him that green zones are for ten minute parking only. He says nothing except "Okay". Then he asks me "Are you going to give me a ticket?"

I don't know what possessed me, but I decided to give the guy a break although he was already rubbing my rectum the wrong way. So I said, "No, sir, but please be more careful in the future." Does he say thank you? No. He is a selfish moron. As he drives past me he points to the vehicle that was in front of his (which is about one third into the green zone - it's ticket-able but kind of on the edge, you know?) and says "That guy's been here fifteen minutes."

Oh, how I wish I could have said one of a thousand things I was thinking. What I did say was, "I'm monitoring it, sir." I couldn't help but hear the venom in my voice.

Well, this putz drives away and what drives me crazy is: why in the world didn't I cite this guy? He certainly deserved it and he knew it! It's unexplainable even to myself.

All this does, at times, is make me be harder on the next person which I hate to do. I'm telling you, controlling myself is the hardest part.

Okay. Deep breath. I let him go and now I have to let this go.

Beer? You betcha!

Ten-Seven.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2011-01-10T19:31:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, citizens. At least, I hope it's going to be happy.

Some things have changed (some, unfortunately have not). Firstly, one of my colleagues passed away from that old devil, cancer. We were almost exactly the same age. She was a trusted friend and ally in a sometimes contentious job world. I miss her terribly. We would have lunch together and vent about all kinds of things: the job, our fellow PCOs, the bad-parking public, and just our lives (and loves) in general. She had a boisterous laugh and that is what I'll remember, and miss, about her most.

The other thing that has changed is my schedule. This is not unusual in police work, but I'm not a policeman. We are civilians who work for the police department. Anyway, I now have to work an hour later into the evening and it sucks. On the bright side, I have every Wednesday off. Which sucks for making travel plans. On the bright side, I can take a Tuesday off after a major or minor Monday holiday (Hello? [cough, cough] I'm not feeling well today), and have five days off in a row. Which sucks because I have to burn an hour of accrued time in order to get the tenth hour off on the minor holiday - um, never mind. If I try to explain it all to you, you'll get a headache - mine. Bookkeeping was never my strength and when it involves Time, it's even more confusing. With Time, first you earn then you burn. Hm, sounds like a life-lesson.

In any case, it all takes some adjusting. I hate adjusting. But, humans are nothing if not adaptable and believe it or not, us parking control types ARE human.

We wear a blue uniform shirt and I can tell you, so far this year, some of the blue has seeped through to my soul. Oh well. Bad rehearsal, good performance, right? Let's see how the rest of the year goes from here.

Ten-Seven

Another Christmas, Another Surrender

2010-12-23T17:29:00.000-08:00

This blog is now a year old. I too am another year older and another year into my job as a Parking Control Officer (eight years in February). And I'm beginning to think that "control" should not be in our job title. How can you control a flood? How can you control a hurricane? How can control a mindless tide? I'm talking about the mindless tide of humanity.

People. People who don't read signs, who aren't able to figure out that you just can't block someone's driveway or a fire hydrant, who STILL don't know that red means NO. People who will do only what is most expedient for themselves and all others be damned.

You know, I consider myself a pretty smart guy. And to be quite honest, this job is really not much of a challenge. It's easy to write parking tickets. The only challenges come in the form of me trying to control myself, my temper, my tongue, my ulcer, my vehicle (when I see incredibly stupid driving in front of me).

Hm, so I guess that's it. That's the real control aspect of all this: me controlling myself. The only thing I really have any control over anyway.

So, as my step-daughter decorates the Christmas tree, my wife cooks up a yummy meal and Vince Guaraldi plays Charlie Brown music on the stereo, I'll just relinquish any attempts at control for another holiday season and simply appreciate what I have.

Happy holidays everybody.

10-7

Shout out

2010-12-20T11:27:00.000-08:00

Check out a friend's blog that has nothing to do with parking (thank goodness)!

http://www.fadingad.com/fadingadblog/

But it is interesting.

Ofcr X

I had to pass this along

2010-12-17T13:19:00.000-08:00

I just heard about this website and while as a professional I cannot endorse the rude language of the domain name, or the placing of anything on a person's car, behind my hands I'm snickering like crazy.

Here it is: www.youparklikeanasshole.com

By the way, I am in no way affiliated with this site. It isn't mine, darn it.

Officer X

"I'm not from around here."

2010-12-11T17:16:00.001-08:00

I hear the title quote a lot. "I'm not from around here" a person will tell me, in English, as a request to excuse me from writing them a ticket. Wha? You are speaking to me in English (I suspect some Spanish-speakers of using their language as a way to tell me that they indeed do not speak or read English, but I don't always believe them), and I'm sure you can read English signs. All of our signs are in English but if there are two signs, the bottom one suddenly becomes some alien language that they not only can't read, but in some cases can't even see.

Really?

I don't care if you are from Minnesota, New York City, Orange County, or Australia, you too must follow the rules as delineated on those signs. Unless you are blind, then you shouldn't be driving should you? And you wouldn't be reading this would you?

Is the above quotation proof of extraterrestrial life, or just another mealy-mouthed excuse?

Sigh. I need some time off.

10-7

It's Almost Here

2010-11-27T11:54:00.000-08:00

No, I'm not talking about Christmas. It's true you are hearing loads of Christmas music, sales pitches and the like now that Thanksgiving is over, but that's not what I'm talking about.

I have been posting mercilessly about the fine and not-so-fine citizens of my little California town for a while now and I think it's time to give you all a little present - something I'm sure you've been wondering about, asking for and yes, maybe in your own sick and twisted little way praying for. I'm going to start writing about my colleagues. I've been sticking it to the citizenry long enough (although lord knows they deserve it), but what about US? Not ME of course, but US. The few, the proud, the over-zealous.

Starting soon I will be posting as many stories I think I can write, without being fired or sued over, about my fellow PCOs.

And heaven help us all. Stay tuned.

Away Game

2010-10-23T12:39:00.000-07:00

Hello citizens,

You've probably wondered where I've been for a while (or not). Well, I've been on jury duty for the past five weeks. It was a civil trial. More I won't say about it. But what I will say is that in combination with doing my civic duty and being away from the hustle-bustle, the hubbub, the hurly-burly (I could go on like this but you get the picture) for this long, it's been like a little vacation. The lack of stress has been a welcomed relief. No driving, no ticketing, no people getting in my face. And while deliberations may have been difficult, they were no match, stress-wise, for that one person who was willfully ignorant of a simple parking sign and made my life miserable because of it.

Why did I come back then, you ask? I need the money. The first day back on the job after jury duty was so surreal in so many ways that I just can't do it justice here (like I did in the jury room).

More later on all this. I will close by saying it's good to be back. Now if I can only keep this stress-free feeling for, oh say, the next fifteen minutes, I feel I'll be way ahead of the game.

10-7

Verbal Judo

2010-08-21T08:24:00.000-07:00

The title of this piece does not refer to a character from the movie "The Usual Suspects." No, it is a technique taught to us by the police to diffuse any confrontation we may find ourselves in. You see, they don't give us guns (and a good thing too). We do have pepper spray but my former boss told me that in her more than twenty five years on the job, no one ever used it. Sometimes just taking the canister out of it's holder and shaking it to mix the chemicals is enough to deter a person who is hot under the collar. They know they may be about to become hot around the face and that does the trick.

This then is about talking your way out of a bad situation which is a marvellous skill to have in daily life as well (especially when I have a fight with my wife).

Here's what generally happens:
I am writing a ticket and about to place it on the windshield when the person emerges from their house. You can tell by the redness of their face and the strain showing in their neck muscles that, yep, it's their car and they are already at level 100 on the anger meter. They'll usually ask something stupid like "Why am I getting a ticket?" Generally they already know why and I'm getting very developed eye-rolling muscles myself.

Then the fun begins as I try to calmly explain to them why they are getting fined. Now, here's a problem to watch out for: they are in a completely agitated state and we as humans (most of us), when confronted with this type of thing get an immediate shot of adrenaline, prompting what's called the "fight or flight" response. Since we can't flee (until we've hung the ticket) and we can't fight in the traditional sense, we must use verbal judo (or scalding hot coffee if you happen to be holding a cup but you try writing a ticket with a cup of coffee in your hand. Not easy). The thing to avoid though is, when you get that shot of adrenaline (you've already had enough caffeine, mister), it's hard not to rise to their level and start getting angry yourself. You have to swallow hard (sometimes the coffee is bad, I mean really bad) and set a better tone between you and the angry person. It can get extremely frustrating (hey, I paid four and a half bucks for this coffee [oh, will you stop with the coffee already and get on with it?]), as I was saying it can get frustrating hearing the stupid or clueless reasons or excuses or just plain wrong-headedness of the aggrieved party and sometimes you'd like to say something back to them like: "You're an ass." This won't do. When they train us they tell us: "If you want to say something you think will make you feel better, don't." It'll only make the situation worse. And, you may get a citizen complaint about you. And who wants those? Most people simply want to be listened to anyway, so I do a lot of that. If you listen, you don't have to do a lot of talking which is smart.

I'm very good at verbal judo. When I'm done with a person, they are usually shaking my hand and saying thank you to me. And I just gave them a ticket! I love it. I can usually stop any snarkiness from coming out of my mouth until I'm fully in my vehicle and driving away. You should hear what I say then! It feels sooooo goooood.

Ten-Seven

Toe Story 2

2010-07-20T10:57:00.000-07:00

And now, more about my time in the Traffic office at the police station. Damn toe.

One of the things we must do is to retrieve the "72 hour complaints" off of the phone voicemail box dedicated to that purpose. These are supposed to be complaints about abandoned vehicles but you wouldn't know it. Oh, before I forget, let me say that I'm glad they set up this mailbox. Before when you spoke to one of these complainants, they would go on and on and on telling you their life story before getting around to "just the facts, ma'am." Now, you can fast-forward through their messages. Ah, technology!

So, about these 72s. We have a rule here in my little town that a vehicle cannot be parked in the same place for more than a consecutive 72 hours. Essentially, you can't store a car on the street (or an RV, a boat trailer, etc). We leave a little red notice and we chalk the tires (or mark them in some other way) to make sure the owner knows the rule and knows that we're working their vehicle. A lot of times they will simply moved the vehicle up a few inches (Hey, I moved it!). Let me just say this: WRONG! And you can't simply move it from one side of the street to the other. Nope, you can't do that either. It has to break an intersection and go off of the block. You can even drive it around the block and park in the very same spot. But, if your car can't move because it doesn't run, like say, it doesn't have an engine, get it fixed.

Now, about these complaints we get. When you run the voicemails here is what you hear: It's been parked in front of my house for two days! Seven days! Six months (and you're just calling now?)! Recently a woman said this: "I can't water my front yard (!?!)." Why, I thought? Is it parked on your front lawn? Then she let the truth spill out: "My friends can't park in front of my house." Ah. That's really it in a nutshell. So instead of calling in a vehicle which might be abandoned and could actually pose a hazard or could be stolen, it becomes about "I want this car moved (off of a public street, mind you), so I can park there." Nice. Remember folks, you may own the house but your rights end at the end of your sidewalk. The sidewalk, the little grass strip and the street is MINE! The city owns that and we say that other people, you know, the public, can park there too. Make your friends walk a half a block (believe me, they can use it. I've seen some of your friends).

A lot of times, we get the same people calling about the same cars. This can sometimes be another version of the wonderful game show NEIGHBORHOOD FEUD! These things usually get resolved one way or another (jail is not a pretty place, folks, so take it easy, okay?) but often they can go on for years. We don't like this. It wastes our time. I need to go on my break!

My favorites though are during holidays or vacation times like the summer. We'll get calls like: "There's a car I don't recognize on my street." Welllll? People do visit each other, you know. Kids come home from college, and, people have even been known to (gasp!) buy new cars once in a while. But I suspect it all goes back to this: "I can't park in front of MY house."

These are grown-up people I'm talking about here. And most of them have driveways too!Brother.

Ten-Seven.

Toe Story

2010-07-11T15:34:00.000-07:00

Hello and ouch. I sprained my right pinkie toe pretty badly (while on vacation, of course and believe me, there's nothing pretty about it) so I had to spend all of last week in the police station working in the Traffic office. Firstly, I was amazed at how many people had broken toe stories of their own. These little things are vulnerable, aren't they? Okay, let's get this out of the way right now. I did not hurt it kicking my wife. That seemed to be the popular thing to ask me (oh those jolly jokesters I work with - every cop a failed comedian). No, I woke up groggy and our bedroom door wasn't quite as open as it usually is and my foot found the edge of the door. It's that old thing about an irresistible force meeting an immovable object (hello, nice to meet you - OOOWWWW!!).

So in the office I was, wearing a rather not-so-stylish sandal-type shoe that I got from the foot doc. With my regular shoe on one foot and this thing on the other, I resembled Igor limping through Castle Frankenstein. I clomped around like a 12th Century Japanese woman in those wooden things they wore (I know I'm digressing here but it's fun).

Whenever I'm in the office, I get to see what kinds of tickets the motorcycle officers write. Following is a list of the three most common:

1) Cell Phone use. There is a law against this in CA (among other states) and yet you'd never know it. This is far and away the most common ticket the police write these days. Ah, give me the good old days when you had two tin cans with a piece of string between them. It's impossible to drive while talking on one of those (I've tried). But what's such an emergency that you can't pull over (NOT in the red, please) and talk? And don't get me started on texting. When I'm driving around on my job, I'm driving in a taller vehicle so it's fairly easy to see people texting in their cars even when they're trying to hide it. Unfortunately, I can't cite for this. Darn. There are bluetooth devices for the talking but so far no bluethumbs for the texting.

2) No Seatbelts. I mean really people, come on. You WANT to fly through the windshield in an accident? Really? There are those who tuck the belt under their arm as they drive. "But look, the belt is on!" This is a no-no as well. The belt must be worn properly. I've actually seen people texting and not wearing a seatbelt. Pathetic.

3) Unsafe Speed. Now, this is hard to avoid sometimes (Ahem, not me of course. I ALWAYS drive completely within the limit - why are you smirking?) But think about it. Texting or talking on the cell phone while driving, not wearing your seatbelt, AND speeding too? That's the trifecta! You WANT to not only go through the windshield, you also want the phone embedded into your skull, don't you? Hey, maybe there's the solution to talking while driving right there. I suppose that's coming.

More on being in the office later. I need to put my foot up (and take a pain pill).

Tab, you're it.

2010-06-30T11:12:00.000-07:00

Some call them Tabs, some call them Tags but we all know them as those little sticky things one must put on our license plates (except in some states where you put something in the windshield or in New Jersey where you don't need any at all - Go, Mafia!). The thing that amazes me is, some people feel this simple task absolutely MUST become an art project. They take the even smaller sticky part, the one that says Peel Here, and they put that all over their plate making it look like some kind of fruit salad that has exploded. This can make the plate difficult to read at times (maybe that's their evil intent? ... Nah.). By the way, there is a statute about altering the plate making it difficult to read. I'm just saying.

Then there are the "artists" who take the year tabs and layer them one after the other in a kind of colorful waterfall, or maybe a rainbow. Whenever I see this I wonder if they'll run out of room on the plate or the car will give up the ghost first.

Then you get the people who put one tab over another...and another...and another...and another until the tabs stand about three inches away from the plate. This is a bad idea. You see, people (and here I'm referring to unscrupulous people) have a tendency to steal tabs. [Really? Oh, horrors!] Yes, they do. This way, they can try to fake us (and the state) out and they don't register their car. I love catching people who don't register their cars. And we do catch them. Usually when they do something stupid. You'd be shocked to find out (as we are) how long some people go without registering their cars. This is another bad mistake. When we catch you (and we wiiiiilllll), it is soooo expensive to register it then, what with all the penalties and fees, etc. Oh, boy.

I'm not even going to mention those who put a year tab over the month tab. These people are just dumb. Oops, I guess I just mentioned them.

Look, here's the thing: when you get your tabs in the mail, take the old one off with a razor blade. Put the new one where it goes (usually upper right corner people, come on) and then using the same razor blade, score it (that means make cut lines in it so no one can steal it in one swipe) and there you go. You'd be astounded at how many people get tickets because their tabs are not on the plate and then they come out and show us where they are - in their glove box! Or they say, I'm waiting until I wash the car (just wash that spot!), or my mechanic does it for me (ladies, please).

So, whether you call them tabs or tags, you know where to stick them.

Ten-Seven

PCO

2010-06-22T17:48:00.000-07:00

We are called PCOs, that is, Parking Control Officers. I realized today that you can't spell proctologist without the letters PCO. We might as well be called proctologists because we deal with so many assholes every day. Sorry to be so harsh but if you had the day I did today, you'd be sounding off this way too. Let me say first that the rich really are different than you and me. They're assholes. They think they are so privileged that the rules do not apply to them. People who work in show business can really be self-important assholes. They actually think what they do is important and that the rules don't apply to them at all. People who can't read a simple sign or who don't know that red means NO pretty much all over the world are assholes. What is it that makes people who may be quite nice outside of their cars, become such assholes the minute they get in? Are we breathing some kind of fumes in there that we don't know about? You'll notice I include myself in that last question. Sometimes, when I drive I can be an asshole too. But not when I park. Then I try to follow the rules. Why? I don't want to get a parking ticket. Apparently this does not apply to assholes. Ugh. I'm wiped out. 10-7

Tow Head

2010-05-18T20:55:00.000-07:00

Greetings,

Something I haven't written about yet is when I must tow a vehicle away. Not just cars either. I've towed thirty-foot motor homes, trailers (some with boats on them), motorcycles, semi trucks, 60's vans, even a scooter once (!). With a little kid still on it! No, no just kidding there. He went into the ice cream shop and while he wasn't looking....again, just kidding. I can't help myself, you know.

Anyway, there are only a few reasons why a vehicle might get towed away (almost sounds like it's never coming back - and I wish some of them wouldn't!). The most common is that the vehicle's registration has lapsed. If it's six months out of date, we can impound it. We can't crush it into a cube, but honestly, sometimes we'd like to. If it's been stored on the street in the same place for more than seventy-two hours, we can take it. Now look, we are on to all the tricks. If you move it across the street or roll it forward or backward, this does not constitute "moving the vehicle." Yes, technically it has "moved" but don't be a wiseguy. We left you that little red tag for a reason: so you'd read it and learn the law. Too bad if you didn't.

There are other reasons to tow as well. A common one is a street sign that says in effect, If You Park Here We Will Tow Your Car Away. I wish it said that in reality and not just in effect because people will park there anyway and completely ignore the sign that simply says Tow-Away Zone No Parking Any Time. It's amazing how many of those kinds of tows we get, whether they are the temporary type signs put up because of a parade, street repair or some other street work that needs a-doin', or the regular old street signs on poles. You know, the ones people routinely ignore anyway.

There are also the cars that are simply abandoned. There are cars that are missing parts (like engines) that may be hazards and can be towed for that reason (I wish you could tow away some people who are hazards but, sadly, we're not there yet). And there are cars that are parked illegally, like in a red zone for instance, that have no proof of registration - no plates, no VIN. Why anyone would do that is a complete mystery. Maybe they hate the car and are trying to get rid of it or maybe it's just a bad case of the Stupid Flu.

Then there are those vehicles we find that have more than five unpaid parking tickets in our computer system. We call those "keepers." Oooh, what fun. I enjoy running the paperwork back at the station and seeing exactly how much the person owes. Sometimes it's been more than $1,000. Can you imagine? I would start a keeper "pool" and take bets on how much the person owes and whoever is closest gets the money. But I can't do that. The police wouldn't like it. Gambling on duty and all. Bummer.

One quick story: a few weeks ago I impounded a young woman's SUV which I found out really belonged to her father back in the Midwest. I was furious at the old man. What the heck was he doing letting his daughter drive out west in a car that wasn't registered? For over a year! The plate was even listed in the system as "destroyed." Destroyed? I saw it right there - on the car! Shame on the old guy. I'd like to send him a nasty note. Maybe with some dog poop in it. But the police wouldn't like it. Harassing the citizens and all. Bummer.

Ten-Seven

A Futile Gesture

2010-05-18T20:26:00.001-07:00

Hello everyone,

Today some guy flipped me the middle finger. This is not a terribly unusual occurrence but this one, given what's going on in the world, was slightly different. At least for me. Here's what happened: I was driving along and he was driving in the opposite direction towards me. He had left the ticket on his window under the driver's side wiper but the envelope was open. The little blue and white ticket was there flapping in the breeze. When he saw me, he stuck his arm out the window and flipped me "the bird" as they say (although honestly I don't know why they call it that). It struck me funny and I laughed. He saw me laughing which gave me no end of pleasure (twisting the knife, I believe that's called). I didn't even write him that ticket, of that I was sure. But my enjoyment of the moment soon gave way to a different feeling. I don't know, empathy maybe. I understood his frustration and the futile gesture it caused. This might have made him feel better momentarily but really had no effect on the situation whatsoever. And that's what I started thinking about.

I'm extremely upset about the gulf coast oil spill. This is turning into a gigantic ecological disaster. I feel upset, and angry, and...powerless. Just like that poor guy must have felt. I have made my displeasure with the situation known on other websites that I frequent and I really began to see the futility of my gestures too. They made me feel better (slightly) just to vent, but really what effect would they have?

I wanted to go find that guy and tell him this: I understand your taking your frustration out on me by saluting me as you did but it won't change the fact that you got the darned thing for parking illegally. If you really want to do something, run for city council and then have those signs changed (you know, those signs you didn't obey). Then and only then will you really get the satisfaction you are looking for. This is not easy and it's a long and, I suppose, arduous way of making that change but there's not much else you can do.

What can I do about the oil spill? Run for Congress? That's about it. Make new laws so these kinds of things can't happen again. I suppose both he and I could write to our appropriate representatives but let's face it, that won't do much to make us feel any better. The world is ours. We should become the change we want to see, to quote Gandhi. Which is certainly easier said than done.

Did you ever think you'd see the Mahatma's name in this blog? Be honest.

Nope, me neither.

Ten-Seven

And Now For Something Completely Different

2010-05-10T19:57:00.000-07:00

I talk a lot on this blog about writing parking tickets (well, duh) but let's talk about something else, yes? Quite often us parking ticket types are asked (that's being polite - we're ordered) to block off a street if there is an emergency of one kind or another. Such as? Well, such as: a traffic accident, a fire, a bomb threat, a hostage situation, a shooting, or more desirably (although not to everyone) a parade.

Let's see what happens when this is our assignment. Typically, we are told: "Block this street (or alley or driveway access) and don't let anyone through." That's it. Pretty straightforward. This is generally for the safety of the citizenry but you'd never know that. To them it is one massive inconvenience. How, they wonder (usually aloud) am I going to get where I need to be? Which is always right in the thick of what is going on. Recently we did have a bomb scare and you'd be surprised (would you, really?) at how many people wanted to go....over there. Yes, there. Just over there. I wanted to say to them this: "Would you like to drive right into the bomb (or the fire or the shooter) or would you just like to interfere with the policemen and firemen who are dealing with it?" Believe it or not, there is a reason why buildings are evacuated. Why people are kept away from dangerous situations. This is not TV, you cannot change the channel. And yes, this WILL be on the news. Do you want to appear on the news as the one putz who insisted on getting himself blown up?

It's just as bad when it's a parade. Ah, civic pride. There's nothing like it. There's also nothing like marching bands and horses lining up on your block just when Junior has to have you take him out for pistachio ice cream right now or he's going to hold his breath again. I'll bet you'd like to take him out, wouldn't you? Anyway, the same parades are held in our town every year at the same time. Notices are sent a week or more in advance to every household that may be affected. Signs are put up on the streets days ahead warning that parking there on parade day will result in your buggy being towed away. But, I kid you not, people act as if this massive undertaking has been sprung on them in the middle of the night. I didn't know Officer. I've only been living here for 35 years. And yes, I'm a moron. How did you know?

It's pretty pathetic when we put up Street Closed signs, block the street with our vehicles, stand there waving cars away and still have someone drive up to us and ask us if they can go through. The exchange usually goes like this:

Can I go through?

No.

But I live right there!

No.

But I just live right there!

No.

This could go on for a half an hour or so until the resident gets tired out or finally gets the hint that we are not budging. Is it your goal to run over the entire Pee-Wee Karate School, Ma'am? Are you harboring some kind of grudge against them that we should know about? Oh, or maybe your vehicle is really a float? The float representing the Terminally Clueless!

I tell you, it's crazy. And the sad part is, we can't write them a ticket for acting like this.

10-7

Big Mistake

2010-04-12T16:59:00.000-07:00

The other day I heard that the small Texas town of Round Rock, which is outside of Austin, is going to start enabling volunteers (!) to give out overtime parking tickets in their downtown. Wow. I think this is a baaaaaad idea. It's tough enough on those of us who do this job in uniform in connection with some city police department, with police radios and pepper spray, etc. I can't imagine this is going to go well. The store owners are upset because they can't help but notice the cars that sit out in front of their businesses in the two-hour zone all day long. In our little town it's slightly different. Here it's mostly the business owners that sit all day in the two-hour zones in front of their businesses. They just hate it when we come by. As I write the ticket I love telling them, "You may own this business, but I own the street."

Anyway, what's going to happen in Texas? Here's a sample of the dialogue I think might occur:

Billy Bob: Earl, just what in the world do you think you're doing?

Earl: Well Billy Bob, you've been sittin' in this here two-hour parkin' zone for three and a half hours. I'm writin' you a parkin' ticket.

BB: Like hell you are.

E: Nah, it's true. And you gotta pay it too.

BB: Like hell I will. Earl, I fixed your lawnmower. How can you do this?

E: Watch me. And by the way, I think you overcharged me for fixin' that darned thing.

BB: My wife and yours play bridge together!

E: Well, your wife better start winnin' then, so she can pay this here ticket for ya.

BB: Earl, don't make me have to kick your ass.

E: Like hell you will!

It, of course, gets worse from there. One lady in the news story I heard about this said if she got one of these tickets she'd just rip it up and throw it away. I wonder what one of these volunteers will do when that happens. Fine her for littering too? This simply cannot end well and I urge the Round Rock City Council and the Mayor to stop and reconsider this foolish course of action. Of course, it could make for another great installment of the "Tuna" play series.

Ten-Seven, y'all.

The Seven Parking Dwarfs

2010-04-09T19:23:00.000-07:00

Good Evening Citizens. I've noticed a lot of weird behavior on this job, and it occurred to me that some of it reminded me of the famous seven little guys who gave Snow White such a hand. Here then is my list:

Dopey - This describes so much of what I see. Bad driving and bad parking are only a part of it. Many times I've stopped to cite a car because the registration tags (or tabs, as they are sometimes called) are out of date. And many is the time that the dope comes out of their house or business to show me, "Oh, I have them right here in my glove box." I tell them, "Um, they took away our x-ray vision and we can't see into your glove box. They need to be on the plate." Why do we still call them glove boxes, by the way? Anyone still storing gloves in there? Anyway, I've had women tell me that "their mechanic puts them on for them" (Really? But it's so easy) or that they were waiting until they washed the car (why not wash that little spot and put them on?) You have to understand, some of these tags stay off the plate for months! As I said, Dopey.

Grumpy - This is pretty much most people to whom I give a ticket. It's understandable. But sometimes I get a person who simply takes the ticket, admits they made a mistake and even smiles and says thanks. These I would say are Happy.

Sleepy - Once in a while you actually get someone sleeping in their vehicle (didn't they hear the sweeper truck go around them? They're loud, you know). I like to see if I can sneak up, get the last 4 of the VIN, and place the ticket under their wiper without disturbing them. What fun! I love the ones who wake up (usually Grumpy) and say, "Why didn't you wake me up?" What am I, your wife? Your alarm clock? Usually I just say, that's not part of my job description and leave. I've also had times where I did not notice the person laying all the way back in the seat nodding. When they pop up it has scared me silly. I can't take too much of that. I am getting older. You'll notice I didn't say anything about those who have no choice but to sleep in their cars (lost their house, fought with their wife - usually it's a guy) because I feel bad for those people. Those who are homeless deserve a break. Heaven knows they haven't had a break for about 8 years so I figure they're due.

Screamy and Yelley - More like Siamese twins I suppose than dwarfs. You know the type so I won't even describe them. But I have had these folks say things like, "A monkey could do your job!" Maybe...one that could read and write and drive. Or "You hate people!" No sir, only you right now. Or, "Why don't you get a real job?" I say, "Why, do you have one for me?" Mostly I say, "This is a real job. I get paid and have benefits and everything." They hate to hear that.

And finally the last dwarf - Clueless. These types say things like, "What sign?" Or, "Oh, I didn't even read it." Or, "I only read the one sign and not the other one." I love the ones who park in an 8 to 10 sweeper zone, come out of their house at 9 after the sweeper has gone around and ask me, "Can I move it now?" I actually said once, "Please, wait until I put my head under the tire. Then you can move it!"
I probably shouldn't have said that.

10-7

By the way, I always thought the plural of dwarf was dwarves. Dictionary dot com says either is acceptable. Okay then.

And now it's time to play....

2010-03-29T18:46:00.000-07:00

NEIGHBORHOOD FEUD!!!!
That's right, it's the game show where your stinky neighbor does something rotten to you, so you feel you have to escalate the nonsense by doing something equally or even more rotten to them! Before we start a new round, let's recap today's edition.

I was called up to one of the ritzier neighborhoods waaaaay up in the hills to cite a vehicle I was told was blocking a fire hydrant. Okay. I do this kind of thing all the time. I drove up there and turned down the cul-de-sac road and lo and behold, no blocked hydrant. I told the Desk (no, I don't talk to furniture. The Desk is what we call the place where the police dispatchers are. Wiseguy.) that the vehicle was GOA, that is, Gone On Arrival. I then drove back down the hill to resume the work I had to do. One hour later, while I was busy, I got another call from the Desk to go back up there. This time it was to assist officers who were called to the scene because of a neighbor dispute. Oh, brother. But at least there would be officers there.

I got there and I was (ta da!) by myself. No officers anywhere. The couple who had made the original complaint was standing outside their house waiting for me. Oh goody! The same vehicle was sitting there but it was way far away from the hydrant. Surely it couldn't be..... "Officer, are you going to cite this car?" "Why? It's far enough away from the hydrant." "Well, the code says it has to be fifteen feet away, right?" I hate when people quote the code to me. It tells me I'm just going to have a harder time of it. People who don't actually DO our job love to quote chapter and verse to those of us who do. "Yes," I said wearily. "Well, his car is fourteen feet from the hydrant and I want you to cite it." "But sir," I started, "there is the letter of the law and then there's the spirit. They also give us discretion and in my professional opinion this vehicle should not be cited." Then the tape measures came out. Niiiice.

When I told him I still wouldn't cite the car, he asked me to get my supervisor (She's not busy at all of course). But I had to call for her. Taxpayers, oy! This scene went on for quite a while until my boss and two (!) patrol cars arrived, but I'm giving you the abridged version. You can thank me later. Or you can thank me by making a generous donation to the old Parking Control Officer's home (I'd give you my address but I'm not crazy, you know).

When my boss got there she told them the same thing I did about that letter/spirit thing, while the cops went to talk to the jerk of a neighbor who never did make an appearance (turns out he really was acting like a creep). We all talked for a while and then I mentioned the one thing they really needed to hear: if I cite this guy, it's only going to make matters worse. This brought everyone up short (the main complaining guy was quite tall too!) and everyone calmed down. I even heard the wife say that she believed in karma and the annoying neighbor would get his someday. Whew, what a relief. Can I please go back to what I was doing before all this started? I can? Wonderful. I got on the radio and told the Desk I was now heading to lunch.

Ten-Seven.

Rough Day

2010-03-26T21:57:00.000-07:00

Not that the day was busy, most of them are. No, this day it hit home (with a sledgehammer) how bad the economy is for some people. Here's the story: I saw a car parked on a curve near an intersection. The rear tire was sticking out over three feet from the curb (you're only allowed 18 inches). I got out to cite it and it came up on my computerized, hand-held cite writer that the car had more than five unpaid parking tickets. I had the main desk check with Citation Management and sure enough, it was a "keeper," as we say, meaning I could tow it. So I called for the tow truck and started filling out the form.

After we got the car up in the air, the owner came out of her apartment with her young child. She was in complete distress. She had no money, she can't pay her rent, she had this or that shut off (I forget which), she had just come from a funeral (?), etc. I asked her if she had any friends or relatives who could help her out. She said no (I should have asked her where the baby's father was, but I thought that might have been going too far). I told her that I felt bad, which I did, horrible in fact, but there was nothing I could do. The state of California doesn't leave a lot of room for those who don't pay their tickets. And so here's my point: if she had just paid that first one, she would only have had a $40 hit. She let that one go too long and the fine doubled to $80. Still, that's a manageable amount. And that first one, I should mention, she got in October of 2009! She got four more after that, all of which she let double. This is such a big mistake. Sometimes do people really think, if I don't pay these they'll go away? The other thing is, if she had parked legally and not over 18 inches from the curb, I never would have noticed her car. As it is, it's going to cost her well over $500 to get that car back. And I felt like shit.

I hear you saying, why didn't you just give her a break? Let her go. Be a guy. Well, even if I would have done that, eventually this would have caught up with her. And if she kept getting tickets, the whole thing would have cost her even more! As I have posted before, causes lead to effects, and karma can be such a big bitch.

When I told this to one of the higher ups at the station, he told me "At least you feel badly. We have people who would have been gleeful to have 'gotten' her." Yeah, I guess so. Small consolation though. I know she feels a lot worse than I do. But I also know this could have been prevented if she had only taken responsibility in the first place. These were all street sweeping tickets. Two of them were on consecutive days! Which means we caught her on the sweeping side one day and the next day we caught her on the other side! For heaven's sake! Ugh!

I have said before, a perfect day for us is if we write no tickets at all. I wish that day had been today. I only hope this young woman can turn things around for herself and for the sake of her child. Maybe in an odd way I did her a favor. When your back is up against a wall, the only way to go is forward. Also, the only way to get rid of an illness, is after it has come out and shown itself. Maybe that'll happen for the economy too. But I still feel like shit.

Officer X needs a Dos Equis (or two).

Ten-Seven.

Sad but true

2010-03-16T21:57:00.000-07:00

I was in the office at the end of my shift today, when a gentleman came in to protest a ticket he had received earlier for parking facing the wrong way in an angled space - i.e. he had backed in. What's wrong with that? Well, it was on a very busy street, first of all, and he had to cross the double yellow lines to get into the spot that way which is a moving violation (and he'd have to do that again to get out), he'd also be pulling out into oncoming traffic which on that street can be extremely treacherous and defies common sense, and quite simply, it's a violation of the vehicle code! Well, he has a very large vehicle (oh yeah?) and he would have a terrible blind spot (I think he already does) if he pulled in forward, etc, etc and blah, blah, blah.

The woman at the window told him to take a protest form and fill it out. He kept yammering on that he thought it was a chintzy (his word) ticket and he should be allowed to park his truck the way he did. I thought, the arrogance of this man. The self-righteousness. He didn't care that he was doing the wrong thing, it should be allowed dammit because it was him doing it! Well, I guess we've all felt this way at one time or another. Maybe. I hope not. Because this kind of attitude is a poison in our society. I don't have to follow the rules but everyone else does, and should! Man, if we all felt like that and acted upon it, think of the utter chaos that would create. It's not too crazy to imagine that anarchy would ensue. I'm not a huge fan of Rudy Giuliani but he had a good idea while he was Mayor of New York City. He kept a tight lid on a lot of the smaller crimes, the minor infractions and it worked. Bigger crime did actually go down. He knew that people who have the attitude that it's okay to do this little thing soon started thinking it's okay to do this slightly bigger thing. And on and on.

I might be making too much of this. Probably I am. This guy didn't look like a criminal, just a jackass, and I don't think he'd be personally responsible for the end of polite society as we know it (tenuous as it seems right now anyway). But look around. This attitude is everywhere. Self-righteousness. It's there in government, in our sports figures, in our business leaders, in religious leaders, for cryin' out loud! Who says this is okay? What philosophy gets behind this kind of behavior? Is there anyone who sits down, self-reflects and says, you know what? I was wrong. I'm still wrong and I'm not going to do that again. It's rare to see that in this job, I can tell you. It's rare to see it in America in 2010.

Ten-Seven

Timing is Everything

2010-03-14T21:08:00.000-07:00

See the title of this piece? I've always heard this. And I believe it too. But whose timing? When I was growing up, our cat always seemed to know when our father was coming home. I can't imagine why as our father never fed the little guy and wasn't even generally predisposed to liking cats at all. He didn't like the smell or the cat hair all over the place...but I digress. The point is animals have wonderful internal clocks. Humans seem to have poor internal clocks and this job proves it to me every day. Here are some examples: A person will park at a 10 minute, 20 minute, 30 minute, 1 hour, 2 hour, 90 minute, 3 hour, or amazingly even a 4 hour zone and incredibly, unbelievably, astoundingly not make it back in time and we, as is our job, will write the ticket. But then, of course, many times as we are writing that ticket THEN they show up (Murphy, I curse you AND your law). They argue with us and we (and by we I mean I because I don't know what my colleagues do really) shake our heads in complete bemusement.

By the way, it's futile to argue with me because you are not really arguing with me. You are arguing with the big, fat, juicy chalk mark on your tire and big, fat, juicy chalk marks don't lie. When I point that out, people usually calm down. Although I have had people snatch the ticket out of my hand (bad form), crumple it up (worse form), and throw it on the ground (really embarrassingly no-good form, if you ask me). I've even had people tear the thing up, throw it into the street and drive off triumphantly. I wonder how they feel (and I'd love to be the proverbial fly-on-the-wall to see how they react) when they find that I have simply re-printed the ticket and mailed it to their house, even out of state.

Oh yeah, back to timing. I hear, "But I just ran in for a minute" a lot which I have discussed before. Mostly this is simply untrue. Things don't happen that quickly and here I mean things like running into the store, going to the ATM, running into the post office (puuulll-eeeezzeee), or into the vet's office, doctor's office, dentist's office, or the DMV!!! (Honestly, what do you people think we'll fall for anyway?)

I guess I'm posting this because we've just gone back onto daylight savings time. You'd think with all the daylight people have saved over all these years, they'd be, I don't know, brighter.

Ten-Seven.

A personal note to Ezra: You give me hope.

Karma

2010-02-20T08:23:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you about something that happened to me just the other day. I was doing the 2 to 4 PM sweeper route when I came to a car parked on a corner in front of a house. The street sweeper had already gone around the car (the wet tracks were quite obvious) and I pulled up and got out of my vehicle. The car's trunk was open so I knew I didn't have a lot of time as the owner was somewhere nearby. I started to write the ticket when the car's owner came running out of the house screaming something about making a sale (selling something from the trunk of his Beemer, no doubt). I said, "Sir, the sweeper went around your vehicle." From a red and purple face he cried "You're not giving me this ticket." He seemed to be full of rage - steroid rage from the looks of his upper body, but that's just a guess. He stood blocking my view of his license plate and as I stepped to one side to get a look at it, he pulled a small blanket from his trunk and wrapped it around the plate. I immediately called for back-up. Why? Well, the guy was hostile and seemed prone to doing just about anything and, truth be told, I thought he might take a swing at me. Anyway, I stepped to the front of his car to get a look at the front plate. There was none (a violation right there in California) so I bent to look at the VIN or Vehicle Identification Number located on the dashboard. He jumped into the car and put his hand over the VIN so I couldn't read it (I never could have gotten all 17 digits into my cite writer that quickly anyway, but he didn't know that). Then he started the car, gunned the engine, and went racing off around the corner. The blanket whipped off of the plate as he did this but he was moving too quickly for me to get a good look at the numbers.

So he got away with it, right? Wrong! Maybe he didn't get this particular ticket but karma is strict. Something will happen to him down the line due to the cause he made and he'll wonder (or not) why this thing, whatever it is, has happened to him. You see, Man's law is flawed because we are flawed, but the law of karma, i.e. cause and effect, is absolute. It always works. So, Mr. Steroid Rage, you'll see the result of what you did the other day. You probably won't recognize it and I'll never know what happened to you, but don't question it when it occurs. It's just karmic payback at work. And ain't it a bitch?

Sidewalks

2010-01-14T19:07:00.000-08:00

Okay. I, Officer X, am going to tell you now which tickets I hate to write the most. Ready? Sidewalk tickets. That is when a vehicle parks across the sidewalk. I'll get to why I hate to write these in a moment. First, let's paint a little mental picture, shall we?

I want you to imagine a typical suburban side street. A fairly wide street with a lot of nice houses with driveways, trees lining both sides forming a beautiful, shady green canopy. No speed bumps. Idyllic, yes?

So what happens when I drive up or down one of these little slices of heaven? I see cars, SUVs, pickups or motorhomes parked across the sidewalk blocking pedestrian access. And worse, wheelchair access. Now, remember the mental picture of the street you formed? I want you to start at the mid-point in the street and go to one of the curbs on either side. Can you see it? Good. Now go up onto the curb. What do we find next? A grassy strip of land, usually with a tree or two on it, maybe a fire hydrant. This we call the parkway. Don't ask me why, I do not know. When I grew up back East, parkways were the same as freeways or expressways but more aptly named, especially in bumper-to-bumper traffic, because it felt as though you were there to park not move and there was nothing free or express-like about them. Sorry for that little digression. Now, what's next? Oh yes that's right, the sidewalk itself. And where the sidewalk ends (with a nod to Shel Silverstein), THEN comes your property. And guess what? Your driveway only extends out to your side of the sidewalk. Thaaaaat's right. You don't own the sidewalk, the parkway, OR the street in front of your house. Sorry to have to tell you this.

So, what happens? A person parks in their driveway but, oh no! There is already a car there (or two or I've even seen three, here in car-land). So what do they do? They leave the car hanging out over the sidewalk (ten inches over is all you get, folks) and a person walking a dog, pushing a baby stroller or a person in a wheelchair has to go onto the grass, down the sloping apron (the thing that allows you to actually get IN your driveway without having to jump the curb) and sometimes out into the street to get around your illegally parked car! Some of you, the ones with no shame at all, leave the entire tail end of your vehicle sticking into the street itself. Really!

Now, as I just said, this vehicle is parked illegally. So, why do I hate writing these kinds of tickets? Because nine times out of ten, I didn't have to write them at all. Why? Because there is usually plenty of legal parking on the street!!!! People, people, people. Come on! So many of you have this notion that the excuse of "I just ran in for a minute" justifies your behavior. Do you think it's okay to do something illegal "just for a minute?" Do you? Can I go in and rob a bank using that logic? "But Officer, I only robbed it for a minute!"

I want you to stop being so damned lazy and inconsiderate. It's cheaper. Oh, and stop parking facing the wrong direction that the rest of the cars on the street are parked in! Ugh, I'm exhausted.

10-7.

At the Schools

2010-01-10T10:27:00.000-08:00

What is it about schools that make so many of the drivers here in SoCal forget everything they know about driving and the parking rules? Could it be that the desire to get as close as they can to the school to pick up their little darling makes them engage in behavior that endangers the very little ones they seek? Yep. People, lazy as we mostly all are, don't want to park a block or two away, go get their loved one, and actually walk back to their car (an excellent opportunity for bonding with the youngster - I know, I know, what am I crazy?).

The log jam of cars that occurs at the schools makes for a dangerous situation people! When you stop in the red zones (which are there for added visibility) or the crosswalks, or come to a dead stop in the traffic lanes to let your kid into the car, you don't realize that you, in your selfishness, are making the rest of the kids unsafe. Some of the youngest kids don't really think twice before darting out into the street. Those of you who are already distracted looking for your little tike might not see the darters. Let's not even talk about the other distractions, like the car radio, the cell phones, and the pretty mommies you enjoy ogling. Kids have been struck with vehicles in this town. Fortunately, none have been killed (at least since I've been here) but it seems only a matter of time. The crossing guards can only do so much and a lot of drivers routinely ignore them anyway, speeding down the street or blowing through their stop signs.

Whenever we make our presence known at a school, the drivers are upset with us (nobody likes the umpire). But if a child is injured or worse, and let's all hope this never happens, the outcry will be "Where was Parking Enforcement?" I am always gratified when school officials or the more enlightened parents come over to us and say "thanks for being here." We're there to protect the children. The safety of our future generation is worth it, don't you think?

Colors

2009-12-29T20:43:00.000-08:00

Let's talk about colors today. Colors are very important on the street and unless you are color blind, you have no excuse for ignoring them.

First, traffic lights. They are Red, Yellow and Green. We all know what they mean, right? Even color blind people know which order they appear in and what to do when they see which light is illuminated. Red means stop, no, don't go there! Yellow means ease up and prepare to stop (or floor it to get through the light, if that's your mindset. It's dangerous though and not recommended). And of course green means go, it's okay, what the hell are you waiting for buddy? That light ain't gettin' any greener!

Now, when you see these colors painted on a curb what do they mean? Let's take them in reverse order this time. Green means you have ten minutes to park there. Just ten. Not fifteen, not twenty-five, not all day. Unless you have a handicap placard (and it better be yours, not your grandmother's), then you actually can park there all day.

Yellow is a commercial loading zone that gives commercial vehicles twenty minutes to load or unload their goods. We give a little leeway with the delivery trucks as those men and women (yes, I've seen plenty of them you sexist) have a tough job that you'd probably complain about if you had to do it. Non-commercial vehicles however should NOT be parking in the yellow zones. We generally give those people a little time to pick up Granny at the doctor's office or the like, but it is not for you Mr. or Ms. Average Driver. The truck drivers gripe all the time about people who have absolutely no regard for the yellow zones, thus making their jobs all the more difficult. Come on people, get it together. By the way, handicap placards DO NOT apply to yellow zones.

Now we come to my biggest pet peeve - RED! Red curbs mean, as written in the CA Vehicle Code, No Stopping, No Standing, No Parking. Period. The ONLY exception is if you have an emergency and no, getting a call from your agent does NOT qualify as an emergency (in my case it would be a miracle). Since the cell phone law passed recently in CA, many people think the red curbs were painted specifically for them to pull over and talk on the phone. NOPE! This also includes other excuses like, my baby is crying, I have to look at a map, or I've just burned myself in a sensitive area with steaming hot coffee. Well, maybe that last one is okay. But you get where I'm going with this. Red means NO. NO. NO. .....(Pause) NO! I said this was my biggest pet peeve. The reason for the red zones is safety and visibility. Plain and simple. Especially on corners and especially around schools. Kids need extra visibility and their safety is our number one concern there. Oh, and if you park near a red zone, it's okay as long as you are not IN the red zone. What constitutes IN? Well, we aren't going to cite you if one inch of your bumper is in the red (um, I'm speaking for myself here. Some of my colleagues may have other opinions and believe me, some of them take the job way way WAY too seriously). But for the most part, we go by your tire. If your tire is in, you're in and you will be cited for it. Mostly, in this town, we simply shoo people out of the red zones and this drives me nuts. Folks, please don't stop in the red. If you try to argue with me about it, you may see me turn red with rage. I told you this was my biggest pet peeve - twice already!

This is Officer X signing off. I think Officer X needs a Dos Equis.

A Quick Story

2009-12-27T15:33:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to get this one down while it's still relatively fresh in my mind. I had found a vehicle parked on the street with it's tags expired over six months. This is a no-no which can result in the vehicle being towed away at that moment. I wrote the citation and began doing the impound paperwork. The young woman who owned the vehicle came out of the guest house behind the house across the street. She pleaded with me not to take her car away and since it was close to Christmas I decided to merely give her a warning (she already had the ticket which she would need to take care of anyway). I told her I'd let her put the car on private property until she could get the registration squared away.

Meanwhile, her landlord appeared and had to move his car out of the driveway in order for her to put hers there. He immediately put his on his front lawn! Now, understand that there was yet a third vehicle in the driveway so there just wasn't room for all of them, but there was plenty of room on the street! I went over and politely told him that parking on the lawn was also illegal and someone might complain about it.

Well, he suddenly turned all self-righteous. "I've lived here for thirty years," he sneered, "and I know all my neighbors. No one will complain. And I also know all the cops in this town." "So?," I asked. "If you cite me I'll just say I was washing it." "And I'll tell them what you just told me." "Ha!," he continued, "I'll take you to court (I know all the judges too) and they'll throw this ticket out and you'll lose your job!" Wow, actual male chest-thumping. Cool.

I knew I wouldn't lose my job, not over a thing like this. I was, of course, laughing inside. For some reason, this man's bizarre self-righteousness was so funny I just couldn't get angry. His logic was crazy. I wondered if he could walk into a bank, rob it and use the same I-know-all-the-cops-in-this-town line and get away with it. If he could, hell, I'd partner up with him. I could really use the extra money.

"Sir," I continued, "I gave the young lady a break and now I'm giving you one. I'm giving you fair warning. I have other things to do right now but when I come back a little later, if your vehicle is still on the lawn, I'm going to cite it. Bye!"

I left while he was still protesting. When I got back there a half-hour later, the vehicle was on the street. I really didn't expect that but was glad. All in all, one of the more humorous exchanges I've had on this job.

Glad Xmas is over

2009-12-25T15:33:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone,

Officer X here. I work as a Parking Enforcement Officer for a relatively small town in Southern California. I've been at this job for almost seven years now and there's one thing I've discovered about this particular time of year - it stinks.

Now look, I know nobody wants to get a parking ticket, nobody. But what people don't realize is that when December 1st rolls around, it doesn't mean it's now Xmas and you can break the parking rules all you want. "But it's the holiday season!," people whine to me. "Can't you give me a break?" No. Would you walk into a bank, hold it up and when the cops catch you, use this same logic with them? No, you wouldn't (if you were sane). Why would you imagine that it would work with us? I realize that a parking infraction is vastly different from robbing a bank, but the prinicpal still applies. Hey, you break a rule, prepare to pay the fine. Don't boo hoo to us, we are only there to cite violations. If you want to protest a ticket, take it to the police station where they get paid to hear your protestations. Don't get snotty with us and wish us, in your most sarcastic voice, "Merry Christmas Officer _______!" That doesn't mean much to us.

But, we do know how you feel. When a typical person gets a ticket they feel angry, embarrassed, and frustrated. You think you have been treated unfairly. But after all, we didn't take that money out of your pocket, you did. I will now reveal to you all the one big secret to avoiding getting a parking ticket: READ THE SIGNS! "Can't you give me a warning?," you cry. No, because the sign IS the warning. Now, man up (or in some cases, behave like a lady) and take responsibility for your actions. People who do this are the happiest people. Why? Because they know that they have it within their power to change their circumstances. If you keep blaming us, you'll keep messing up and never solving that most fundamental of issues - personal responsibility.

So, I'm glad Xmas is over. The streets are very busy. The drivers are out in full force doing last minute shopping and other holiday-related errands. But we are out in full force too. Just looking for those for whom this season is just another excuse to break a simple rule then cry when they get caught.

Happy Holidays! (oh wait, there's still New Years Eve to contend with - sigh.)