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HORTON LAZARIO

Ring of Fire

 

A weekly column pandering to the politically incorrect...

 

Episode 29 -- Meter Maids

 

All Meter Maids must die!!!

The other day I came out to my car as the Parking Control Officer (Meter Maid) was writing up a parking ticket.  I looked at the meter and it had JUST flipped over.  "You're kidding, right?"  I asked.

"Oh, no sir, you're in violation".  Oh, if he only knew. 

Then he handed me the ticket, which, if you divide the cost into the time the meter was expired, came out to $2.73 per second.  "Ratshit!  You quota filling mother fucker!"

"Sir, I'm just doing my job."  He said. 

"Just doing your job, huh?  Yeah, that's what all those Nazis said at the Nuremberg trials." 

He took this as his cue to jump into his ticketmobile and speed away.   But it was too late; I already knew who he was.

The next day I was waiting for him in the same parking lot.  I was ready.  I had purchased one of those hats they make for loud obnoxious sports fans.  You know, the plastic baseball batters hat with a built in six-pack holder and a 500-watt PA speaker mounted on the bill.  Yeah, that's the one.  I cranked all the way up, just below the feedback level, and I had spare batteries bulging out of my pants pockets.

I blared across the parking lot, "Hey, Asswipe, how'ya doin'?  Here to do your job again by ruining everybody's day?"  Thank God I was wearing earplugs.  He stooped and stared at me.  "Hey, don't mind me, just keep doing your job.  Keep handing out those tickets like you were spreading fairy dust all around.  I'm just gonna tag along."

And that's just what I did.  I remained quiet until this guy started to write a ticket, then I cranked up my hat-speaker and shouted, "GET A REAL JOB - JACKASS!"  He stopped writing instantly and moved along, hoping I'd stay put.  Of course I followed close behind. "GET A REAL JOB - METER MAID!"

He tried to ignore me but after the third or forth time he spun around, "Why are you doing this?"

"Oh, I'm just doing my job, it's noting personal."

"Just doing your job?   How is this your job?"  He spat back.

I turned up the speaker a little louder, "I'm glad you asked, jackass.  You see, I'm a comedy writer, so it's "my job" to go out and annoy people and then write about it.  Today, and every day from now on, I'll be doing my job by screaming at you.  GET A REAL JOB YOU EMASCULATED METER MAID SCUMBAG!"

That was it.  He took refuge in his ticketmobile, rolling up the windows and locking the doors, which was great because it was 103 in Van Nuys that day.  I stood on the sidewalk and yelled, "GET BACK TO WORK, ASSHOLE!  YOU'RE WASTING THE TAXPAYER'S MONEY.  YOU'RE NOT DOING YOUR JOB!"

Then he got on his radio.  I could see he was describing me over the radio. He rechecked the door locks and then sat back like he was waiting for something.  About five minutes later a police car rolled up.

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to leave the area."

"Why, have I done something wrong?"

"You are impeding Officer Horst from doing his job."

"Oh contraire officer.  Why, in fact, I've been standing here for the past fifteen minutes telling him to get back to work."

"Well, all the same, you'll have to leave."

"Nope, not goin."

"Sir, don't make this hard on yourself."

"So, let me get this straight.  You, as a member of the LAPD, who have sworn to uphold my constitutional rights, are prohibiting me from my freedom of speech.  I just wanted to get that straight…"

"Sir, it's not like that at all, we just believe that -- " 

I switched on the microphone and started chanting, "Rodney King, Rodney King, Rodney King -- Rampart, Rampart, Rampart…"

The two cops just looked at each other and shook their heads.  "Screw it, let's go to lunch."  This made Mr. Meter Maid very uneasy.  "But aren't you gonna arrest 'im?"

"If he touches you call us back, until then he's not breaking any laws."  His ass was mine.

For the rest of the day I followed him around yelling and screaming.  Whenever he would pilot the ticketmobile to another location I followed close behind, and when he got out of the car I'd blare out "Let's go to work Asshole!"  I have to admit he did a great job of blocking me out. He was determined not to let me screw up his quota for the day, but by three o'clock he was showing signs of cracking. 

"What do you want?  You want me to pay your ticket?  Done!  I'll pay it!  Just fucking leave me alone."

"How does it feel having a job that has no social relevance?  You're as useful as jock itch.  That's it, you're the jock itch of civil servants!"

That did it -- he snapped!  He lunged at me, grabbing the microphone and ripping the speaker hat off my head.  "Say it again, Mother Fucker, say it again," he yelled as he wildly swung the speaker hat at me.

"Jock itch, or do you prefer, Mr. Jock Itch?"

"Ahhhhhhhh!  He threw down the hat and kicked it into the street.  Then he spun around, grabbed me, and slammed me up against the wall.  "I'll kill you!!!"  

Several passersby whipped out their cell phones and called 911.  He stopped when he saw the weird people, but the damage was done.  Within a few moments the same two cops were back.

"How was your lunch?" I asked.

"Look, we've got four witnesses who claim that he attacked you.  That can't be right.  Is that right?"

"As sure as Milton Berle's got an eleven inch penis."

"What?"

"Never mind.  Yeah, he attacked me."

"But you provoked him."

"Yeah, I provoked him, like Nicole Brown provoked O.J. Simpson.  Hey, I'm the victim here."

"Alright, alright."  The cop turned to his partner, "We don't have any choice anyway because he used a weapon."

"Weapon?" I asked.

"He tried to beat you with your own hat."

"Yeah, weapon… that's right, the sick bastard tried to use a weapon on me."

Five minutes later he was sitting in the back of a police cruiser and his ticketmobile was on a tow truck hook headed for the police impound lot.  I managed to rewire my speaker hat back together just as they were driving away.  "Have a nice time IN JAIL jackass.  Don't forget to tell them what you do for a living!"

The moral to the story is while you may not be able to stop parking tickets you can sure annoy the people who hand them out.  So, the next time you see a Meter Maid say, "How'ya doin' jackass, why don't you try getting a real job."  If we all work together sooner or later we can rid society of this evil menace.

 


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More Lazario

Episode 47 -- Disgruntled Postal Workers

Episode 319 -- The Election Process

Meter Maids in Action

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