Saturday, May 10, 2008

The Po Po's Can't Fade Me, Even If They Have a Hunky Eric Estrada Vibe

Let me preface this brief tale by saying that the City of Chicago seems to write an ungodly amount of parking tickets. It's staggering to think about how much revenue they get from this and where it all goes. Anyway, that's the little tie in to justify posting this on our Chicago related blog, but really it's an excuse to show just how awesome I really am.

On Friday, having just wrapped up a hellacious week of work, I drove my car directly to my girl's place, and parked it across the street. Now, it was around 5:20pm, the sign said no parking until 6pm, but I was feeling too tired and lazy to search elsewhere. Besides, what are the odds Johnny Law is going to come by in the next forty minutes, on a Friday, no less. When I got upstairs, I went right in for a long awaited, much needed hug from my girl. As I hugged away, something made me look out the window, and sure as shit, there was a damn cop strolling towards my car, ticket in hand.

I blurted out, "I gotta go." To which she said, "What?!" She had a tone that suggested I was leaving for good, but not even I have ever bolted out of a relationship quite that fast.

Down the stairs I went with a technique hitherto unknown to this area*, whereby I was running down the first four stairs or so, and jumping down the remaining stairs of each of the three flights. I made it to my car when he was about three steps away from sinking me fifty bucks in the hole. This conversation ensued as I opened my car door:

Cop: (With a thick Latin accent of some kind) Oh, you're smart guy, huh? You're watching to see if you get a ticket, right?
Me: Uh, yeah. I guess.
Cop: (Walking back towards his squad car, tucking his ticket away, speaking in a threatening tone, especially for a beat cop, meter reader loser) You keep playing the game, man. We'll catch up with you.
Me: Ummm, OK.

As I moved my car, I was feeling a sense of pride having outwitted the Latin Beat Cop, essentially saving myself fifty bucks, and evidently, really getting his goat.

Anyone else feeling above the law, not unlike a young, pony tailed Steven Seagal?

*Extra credit and a sticker goes to anyone who knows where that phraseology came from.

5 comments:

Chardsy said...

LA cops are out to get me and they do get me, every DAMN TIME.

I'm now $3500 bucks in the hole with another $400 to pay by the end of July. Such a pisser.

classyandfancy said...

Since you were in love with this particular po po, you should have had him write you a ticket and then used your manly ways to get out of it.

pistols at dawn said...

I think when you get busted down to the traffic beat, you suck at your job, and inventing fictional rivalries is all he's got.

Well, that and a bevy of buxom beauties, if I remember "CHiPs" correctly.

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Drunken Chud said...

so... where's the phrasiology from?