Went to Traffic Court today to contest a parking ticket that this jackhole Office P. Scott (fie and curses upon you and your kin!) put on my windshield despite the fact that I was parked in a legitimate space. Photographic evidence of the obscured signage in hand (the sign had been spray-painted over by some hoodlum but, having lived here for several years, I know what the original sign said and people have been parking in that legal space for a long time), I foolishly drove through downtown traffic which was incredibly congested due to the latest terror alerts and beefed up security in that area. Dodging trucks barreling down on me, skirting insane drivers racing through red lights (where are the stupid traffic enforcers now?!), and responding in kind when a tailgater flipped me off just because I wouldn't move up and crush the cars in front of me in the stand-still traffic (plus, after the third time he honked at me for not running a red light, I somehow couldn't seem to get my car to go above 5 miles an hour while he trailed behind me . . . go figure), I arrived at the courthouse.

Went through security, stood in mandatory line at the information desk even though I knew exactly where I needed to go, and got my little, paper numbered stub (wasn't sure if I was supposed to order fries with that or sit down). Half an hour later, I was told to join the herd to have a group hearing with the administrative hearing officer. The only white guy in the entire building, the hearing officer (who put on such airs that one might confuse him for a proper judge if one did not know better) sat us all down and turn by turn heard our pleas and rendered judgment. I seemed to be the only one there who came prepared with a clear and consise statement, photographs, and an attitude. Mr. Reichert listened thougtfully, nodded his head, and dismissed the infraction charges.

$30 fee waived! Who wants ice cream?!

(trivia note: did you know that "?!" has a name?! it's true. invented in 1962, it was called an "interrobang" and looks like this.)

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