Bet you didn’t know you were hangin’ with a bad boy, now didja?
I’m like Ben Wade from “3:10 to Yuma”
I’m a likeable character with a mean streak. I’m witty, I’m intelligent, I’ll shoot ya dead from 200 yards for just lookin’ at me funny.
I’m a bad ass mo-fo.
Well, about as bad-ass as a yuppy jew with euro-preppy glasses can be.
But don’t tell anyone.
I’m on the run.
It’s been that way for a long time…. Several times, the authorities have closed in, but I always seem to wiggle out of a tight situation.
It’s stressful. I’m always looking over my shoulder. Always planning my next move. Making sure I stay one step ahead. That’s the life of a criminal. And I like it.
I normally would keep this kind of thing a secret, but I’m being blackmailed. Charlotte Harris has been threatening to reveal my dark-side to the rest of the world for quite some time now. And I’m tired of it. Tired of all the crazy things she’s forced me to do, while holding this over me. So Ms. Harris, I will no longer peel all your grapes. I will no longer watch repeats of “Britney and Kevin” with you. And I certainly will no longer clean your toilet while dressed in a catholic school girl uniform (though that uniform is MINE. I want it back!)
So the cat is out of the bag.
You see, I’ve been living in DC for almost 2 years…..
And I still have Virginia plates.
It’s shocking, I know, so I’ll give you a moment to collect your thoughts and change your now-soiled underwear.
Don’t be scared. I’m not a bad person, I swear. Ok, ok I might be a bit of a hypocrite, with my rants against Virginia drivers. But being a hypocrite isn’t against the law. Not registering my car in DC? Well, that might be another story.
So – why don’t I just make the change?
Because I hate the DC Parking Authority.
You see, when I moved into the District, I had grand plans to switch my plates and license over and become one of the few, one of the proud, one of the complainiest people known to man-kind. A DC resident. Of course, I would be a unique DC resident, because I own a car.
I now know why this was so out of the ordinary.
The moment I moved into the District, the tickets started flowing in. It was a slow trickle at first…. maybe a $30 ticket twice a month. Nothing I couldn’t handle…. right? I was living the good life, right up until the day that will live in infamy.
The day I met Rosa.
No, Rosa isn’t a saucy little latino babe. Rosa is the DC Parking Authority’s trump card.
You see, the DC Parking Authority is the lovechild of the Nazi’s and this guy:
Pure evil totalitarianism combined with blatant stupidity.
Only an organization as devious as this could create Rosa.
Not familiar with Rosa? Neither was I.
One day I woke up and I had a ticket on my car that was stamped “ROSA.” It didn’t have any charge associated with it, so I just chucked it out and forgot all about it.
That’s how they get you. They lull you to sleep. You see, Rosa stands for “Registered Out-of-State Automobiles.”
In normal english, that seems a bit innocuous, right? But in Parking Authority Lingo that actually stands for “we’re-putting-you-on-a-list-and-we-will-track-your-every-movement-with-a-gps-device-we-secretly-injected-into-your-brainstem-and-when-you-step-away-from-your-car-for-3-minutes-or-longer-we-will-give-you-the-largest-ticket-possible-just-because-ha-ha-ha-who-is-the-asshole-now-you-dumbass-Virginia-resident”
$30 ticket, $50 ticket, $100 ticket, $200 ticket. They started flowing in faster than farts out my ass when I’m nervous.
It didn’t matter what I did. I couldn’t avoid them.
In fact, I would get tickets when I didn’t even deserve them. They would just drive by my car and give it a ticket. Of course, contesting a ticket gets you nowhere, so I was at their mercy…..
And that’s when it became a challenge. I could not let them win. It might involve breaking the law, but I was going to take a fundamental stand against the Evil Empire. You cannot question my manhood and get away with it. DC Parking Authority…. my reproductive organ is BIGGER than yours. Bring it on!
In case you wondered, in ToBlogOr lingo, “taking a fundamental stand against the Evil Empire” translates into “getting-a-garage-parking-spot-as-soon-as-fucking-possible-before-I-go-bankrupt.”
So, now I pay a pretty hefty fee each month to keep my car parked safely indoors. Safe from the weather. Safe from the Adams Morgan hoodlums that will break my windows with a shopping cart for no apparent reason. And most importantly, safe from the Parking Authority Nazi’s.
Of course, I could just save the money and register my car in DC, but no…. DC is already using all the funds they sucked from me to throw a pretty nice Inaugural Ball…. and didn’t even f’n invite me!
I’m not completely safe though. I still have to venture out of my safe haven once in a while. You see, GF also lives in DC, and when I stay over at her place, my soft-Virginia-plated-underbelly is exposed.
Being a criminal is an exciting life. Not everyone can handle the pressure, but I thrive in it.
Except on the last Tuesday of every month, because that’s when Rosa comes out to play.